Communication
by jane0904
Summary: Next in the Mal/Freya 'verse - with a special thanks to those that read. With Freya still recovering, the crew takes her to Ariel to see the counsellor, but Inara has other ideas, and things get bloody. Final chapter and epilogue up now. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Ariel was spread out below them like a platinum encased jewel, the city reaching to the horizon on all sides.

Hank expertly brought Serenity through the high clouds, River watching his every move from the co-pilot's chair, her feet on the seat, her arms around her knees.

"You thinking I might not be doing it right, dumpling?" he asked, glancing across at her and smiling.

"It's been a while since the captain let me fly," she said wistfully. "I miss it."

"You shoulda said." He shook his head. "I'd'a let you. Any time you want."

"It's not your boat."

"I'm the pilot," he stated firmly as he corrected their trajectory just a tad as the Firefly dropped towards the landing area. "Always did feel like that makes her mine."

"Some of us would disagree on that issue," Mal said from the doorway, leaning on the walls either side.

"Leave me with some of my illusions, Mal," Hank pleaded, grinning at River.

"So you're gonna start paying people now, are you?" Mal looked out at the city. "That might be fun. Only I hope you got a lot of cashy money in reserve. 'Cause the people on board said boat are sore in favour of eatin' occasionally."

"Hey, I'm happy being the hired help."

"Well, the hired help better not crash us. Ain't we going down too fast?"

Hank shot him a scandalised look. "No, we're not."

"Yes, we are," River put in.

"And there I was being all noble in offering to let you fly," Hank said, taking a little of their speed off.

"I think I'd rather be alive to enjoy it."

Mal laughed, surprising the pilot. He'd seemed so cheerful the past couple of weeks since they'd done the drop on Verbena. Shapiro had only half intended her threat to gut him for being late, and as he'd turned the charm onto full, she'd let him get away with just a warning. "Think we're all of that mind, little albatross," he said.

Hank pulled back on the yoke and settled Serenity with barely a bump into her allotted space. "Happy now?" he asked, turning in his seat.

"You're getting better." Mal smiled. "Seems to be a nice day."

"The forecast is for sunshine and light easterly breezes, with a 30 percent chance of precipitation before midnight," River said, dropping her feet to the floor. "Freya wants you."

"I know." He turned and left the bridge.

"How does he know?" Hank asked, watching him head towards the cargo bay.

River smiled and slid out of the chair. "Me too," she said, gliding off the bridge.

"You too what?" Hank called, but no-one answered.

-x-

"Oh, that feels so good." Freya sighed. "Just … ouch."

Inara stopped. "Was I doing it too hard?"

"No. It's … truth is it's painful all over, but this helps. Really it does."

Inara nodded slowly. "Just tell me if it's too much."

"Oh, I will. I think they'll hear me screaming out on the Rim."

Inara smiled and put her oiled hands on Freya's back, pressing against the muscles and tendons just a little lighter than before. "I'm glad it helps." She manipulated her shoulder, pulling it up slightly. "And I'm glad all that training is finally of some use."

"You mean other than making a man all hot for you?" Freya teased, holding back the groan that wanted to bubble from her lips.

"It helped."

"I doubt so very much that you needed help." She took a sharp breath as something clicked loudly.

Inara turned to the other shoulder. "Sometimes I did," she admitted. "Even my staggering beauty wasn't enough to get some men to perform."

"Perform," Freya repeated. "Makes them sound like animals in a circus."

"Sometimes that's what it felt like. With me as the ringmaster with the whip."

"Whip?" Freya tried to look at her friend. "Did any of them want that?"

"Lie still. And there were a few. It wasn't really my area of expertise, but occasionally, with an old client, I'd play the dominatrix."

"That I would have paid to see."

"So would Jayne."

They laughed together, then Freya yelped.

"Sorry," Inara said quickly, moving her hands down.

"No. It's fine. And it's good. I can feel it making a difference."

"If you like, I'll show Mal what to do."

Freya felt a flash of heat burn through her body, and her skin became just a little warm. "Could you?" she asked. "I mean, would you mind?"

"Of course not. And it can be a wonderful way to relax anyway. For both of you."

"Relax?" Freya laughed. "If Mal did what you're doing, we would not end up relaxing. Well, not for a while."

"Is that right?" Mal said from the doorway, looking down at his wife, naked on her front on the floor of Inara's shuttle, only her dark shawl across her hips to preserve her modesty. "Only I don't recall you being capable as yet."

Freya smiled up at him, and he felt her in his mind, just caressing him, reminding him of the night before.

Inara saw the look that passed between them, and felt the old jealousy flare up. She turned away.

"I gather we've landed?" Freya asked.

"Few minutes ago. Thought for a moment we might crash and burn, but Hank pulled it outta the fire."

"Then I'd better get dressed. Time to go to the hospital." She tried to pull herself to her knees, the shawl falling away. In a moment Mal was next to her, putting his arms under hers, lifting her up.

"Thanks," she said, smiling at him, letting him help her.

"Any time." He grinned down at her.

Inara picked up Freya's robe and handed it to her. "Here. I wouldn't recommend wandering around the ship nude."

"No," Freya agreed. "That's someone else's job." Again she smiled at Mal, and Inara felt excluded somehow. Then she turned back. "And thanks. Really. It does feel a lot better."

"Tell me that tonight after the effects start setting in."

"Is it going to be painful?" Freya asked, then amended quickly, "Well, more painful than usual."

"It might. But a soother will help."

"I'll make sure I have one ready." Mal helped her into her robe then passed her the crutches. "Won't be long before you can throw these away."

Freya took the shawl Inara was holding. "I was thinking of having a grand ceremony. Inviting the President of the Alliance, all the Prefects …"

"Good idea. Just tell me when and I'll make sure Serenity's the far side of the galaxy," Mal said dryly, following her out of the shuttle.

"You mean you wouldn't want to be there? A good Browncoat like you?"

"Only with a flame thrower …"

Their voices faded, and Inara closed the door, hurrying now. She had to get changed. He wasn't the kind to be kept waiting.

-x-

Simon lifted his head from over the toilet bowl and gasped for air. He'd had no idea it was going to be as bad as this.

"Oh, honey," Kaylee said, wiping his face with a towel, kneeling naked next to him. "I am so mad at you."

"Mad?" He looked up at her. "At me? Why?"

"Because you did this without telling me." She pushed his hair back from his face. "You shoulda said, talked to me first." She tsked at him. "It ain't worth it."

"It's not so bad," Simon lied. "And what you went through with Bethany, the morning sickness, then giving birth … I think I can put up with it for a little while."

"So it's like being pregnant?"

"A little. I suppose." He sat back against the wall, his body shaking just a little, sweat on his skin.

"You gonna blow up like a balloon?"

"God, I hope not."

Kaylee frowned. "Maybe you should. Serve you right for doing this without me. And I ain't gonna be sympathetic over this." She ignored the fact that she already was.

"You want another baby. _I_ want another baby. Even if I have to carry it myself."

"Can you do that?"

Simon shrugged. "It's happened a few times. Surrogate fathers. But men just … we're not built the right way."

"No," Kaylee agreed. "And even after you don't have the right equipment to feed 'em." She lifted her breasts in her hands and jiggled them.

"Don't do that," he implored.

"Why?" She looked down. "I thought you liked 'em."

"I do. It's just … the movement …" He leaned over the toilet and heaved.

Kaylee stroked his hair. "Why don't you stop?" she asked softly, hating to see him going through this. "Just don't take any more of those injections."

He shook his head, sitting back again and taking the towel from her to wipe his mouth. "I can't. If I stop now there's the chance of further damage."

"You mean …" She stared at him. "Simon Tam, you are the most infuriatin' man I have ever met!"

"What? Why?"

"You told me it was easy! Just a few injections and … now you're saying you can't stop?"

"Kaylee, _bao-bei_, this is for you." He reached out to touch her face, but she pulled away, standing up quickly.

"And that's supposed to make me feel better about all this?" Her face was red with anger and concern.

There was a knock at the door, and it slid open slowly. River looked inside, seeing her brother and sister-in-law staring at each other, both very much unclothed.

"Here," she said, holding out a hypo.

Kaylee didn't look at her, but Simon covered himself with his hands. "River, what are you doing here?" he asked, trying for sternness but feeling nothing more than a little embarrassed. And a lot of nausea.

"It will help." She stepped inside and knelt down next to him.

"River …"

"I've seen you naked before. Lots of times."

"That's not the point. And we were children."

"Since then." She put the hypo to his neck and pressed the trigger. A hiss of gas and the drug was in his system.

"Lopradine?"

"Fifteen cc's."

"Thanks." He smiled shakily at her.

"No problem." She stood up and looked at Kaylee. "He's doing this for you. For you both. And you should be grateful."

Kaylee stared at her as she walked back out.

"She didn't mean it," Simon said, waiting for the anti-emetic to take effect.

"Yes she did." Tears filled her eyes. "And I am grateful." She shook her head. "I am."

"I know, sweetheart," Simon said, wanting to get up and comfort her, but afraid his legs wouldn't hold him. "Please don't."

"Simon, I –" She stopped as he retched over the bowl again, and she was down next to him, her tears falling onto his back. "Oh, honey."

-x-

He had enough. He'd not spent any of the money Mal had given him after the jobs, and he thought he had enough. Something to surprise River.

Jethro sighed. They'd tried. Got so far as being half naked in bed together. But the thought of Mal just a few doors along …"_I hope you ain't bedding the girl. Wouldn't look kindly on that_." … and Simon across the hall … "_She's my sister_." … let alone Jayne just one floor up … "_You hurt River in any way, and I'll carve you into so many small bits they won't be able to find all of you to bury_." … and he couldn't do it. Couldn't even …

She'd told him. "I know what to do. I've seen it so often."

He'd stared at her. "You … you do?"

"In my mind, silly. The Captain and Freya are so _loud _…" She smiled at him. "So I know what goes where, even if you don't."

He'd blushed. Only when it came time to put what … where, he'd frozen up and couldn't.

"It's okay," she said, patting his hand. "It happens. Even my brother …"

The blush had burned like the fires of hell.

So now he had a plan. A romantic dinner for two, off ship. Just him and River. No-one else to stand over his shoulder, even metaphorically, commenting on whether he was doing it right or not. And a hotel. Nothing fancy, just a nice place with clean sheets. And no captain, brother or mercenary to spoil the mood. He felt his body twitch just at the thought as he hurried into the cargo bay.

-x-

Jayne sat in his bunk, taking Vera apart. He didn't want to go anywhere. Not alone, not unarmed, and not on Ariel. Too many memories, especially since the Cap and Freya were off to the hospital. Not St Lucy's, but one just like it. Prob'ly _exactly_ like it. Nothing to tell 'em apart. Same smell, same stupid uniforms, same miserable look on every face. Same sick people, too.

He removed the autolock and blew inside, removing any dust that might have accumulated.

He always felt like this when there wasn't a job on the horizon. And there wouldn't be, not for a week or so at least. Not 'til Frey got what she needed to out of her system.

Which was good, he told himself. If she needed to talk, then that's what she should be doing. Only it meant Mal weren't even looking. It wasn't like he needed the coin, but that weren't the point. He just needed to be doing something. Anything. Just to be doing. Just to be not thinking about that Preacher and River.

Just to be doing something else with his hands.

-x-

Zoe sat at the galley table and stared into her coffee. She didn't feel hungry, just … actually, she didn't know what she felt. Unusual, maybe. Not right. As if she was coming down with something. Maybe that was it. Some kind of bug.

She smiled, remembering the last time the crew had succumbed, and the sight of Jayne naked outside the infirmary serenading River. That was … something else.

"You okay?" Hank asked, stepping down into the galley. "You were restless last night."

"I was?" she asked, two dents appearing between her eyebrows. "Don't recall."

"Mmn. Thought I heard you talking to someone."

"Anyone interesting?"

"I don't think so." Hank poured a mug of coffee and joined her. "I didn't hear the other side of the conversation so I can't be entirely sure."

"Probably just a dream."

"That'll be it." He leaned forward. "So, you gonna take advantage of me while the rest of the crew're out on Ariel?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because most of the crew won't be going anywhere. The captain's firm about that. Only essential journeys, and only with his permission at that."

"So we can't go and take a look around?" He looked like a kid whose goldfish had just been flushed.

"Not this time."

"How come?"

"Well, probably because the last time we were here, Simon and River died, and they and Jayne got bound."

"Died?"

"It's a long story."

"Oh, hey, is that the one where you robbed a hospital?"

"Okay, so maybe it's not as long as I thought."

"Yeah, heard about that." He grinned. "But that wasn't because you went for a walk."

"It's the Core, dear. There's nothing to see except clean people and tall buildings."

"Still, makes a change. You know, to see clean people."

"It isn't worth it."

"Well, I've never been to Ariel before. Once did a drop on Londinium, but that was a long time ago. I'd like to take a look around."

"Mal said –"

"We could ask." He tipped his head on one side and tried the puppy-dog eyes. "Specially since we can't get groiny on board."

"_Groiny_? Is that what you call it?"

"I call it a lot of things," he admitted, grinning. "But only ever with you."

"I … if you want to go take a look around, ask him. But I don't feel like it."

"Are you okay?" He went to put his hand on her forehead but she flinched away. "You got a fever or something? I could ask the doc – "

"I'm fine!" she snapped at him.

"Oh. Okay."

She was immediately contrite. "I'm sorry, Hank. I … I don't feel like me too much today."

"Really? Who do you feel like?" He was trying to make light of the hurt she'd inflicted. "Only maybe that person would like to come for a walk with me."

She glared at him then her look softened. "All right. We'll ask. Only don't blame me if he says no."

-x-

Mal stepped out of the common area into the cargo bay, and stared. "What the _tyen shiao duh_ do you all think you're doing?" he asked.

"Oh my," Freya said behind him, manoeuvring through the doorway.

Simon was standing with Kaylee, Bethany holding his leg. Next to them, Hank and Zoe were trying to look inconspicuous, while Jethro was standing with his hands thrust into his pockets. River was lurking behind a crate, Ethan across her chest in his sling.

"I thought I made it abundantly clear no-one was stepping foot off this boat while we were here?" Mal said.

"Perfectly," River piped up. "I just thought Ethan would like some fresh air. There's a park not too far from here. I believe they have ducks."

"Ducks."

"Bethany wants to see 'em too," Kaylee added.

"And I need to get a few things, Mal," Simon said. "We've run out in the infirmary."

"Gonna rob another hospital?" the captain asked acerbically.

"No. This time I thought I'd try paying for them," Simon said, trumping Mal's acerbities with sarcasm of his own.

"First time for everything," Mal muttered. He turned to Jethro. "And you? You going to see the ducks as well, or going spending coin we don't have?"

"I … actually I had a couple of things I wanted to do. Just … not far. Only a few …" He wilted under Mal's glare.

"And what about you two?" Mal turned on Zoe and Hank. "I'd'a thought you'd have more sense."

"It doesn't look like it, sir."

"And you're going out," Kaylee put in.

"This ain't for fun, you know," Mal said pointedly. "Frey and me, we ain't doing this for the sake of our health."

"Yes we are," Freya put in.

"Well, yeah, okay, maybe," Mal back-pedalled. "But the point is I said no-one else was to leave the ship."

"Hey, I ain't going nowhere," Jayne said from the catwalk above him.

"And Inara's already gone," Kaylee wheedled. "Took off in her shuttle about five minutes ago."

"Inara's a grown woman –"

"And I'm not?" Kaylee now took umbrage.

"I meant she can decide for herself."

"That still don't make sense."

Mal looked for help to Freya, who shrugged. "Actually, it doesn't," she admitted.

Her husband glared at her, then turned back. "Okay. Fine. If you all get arrested, don't expect me to come running to pay your bail. 'Cause I won't. But you ain't all going."

"Hey, I said I wasn't," Jayne called.

Mal ignored him and looked at Hank. "'Sides, you got that thing you need to do for Frey, ain't you?"

"Well, yeah, but I figured after –"

"No. You are gonna stay on board, in case people need … anything."

"Bail?"

"Anything that don't cost."

"Right."

"Aw, hell, if you're all going I ain't staying here alone," Jayne said, heading back to his bunk.

"Looks like I'll be here," Hank said sulkily.

"Like I said, I ain't staying here alone. Do Core planets have whorehouses?" he asked and was gone to change.

"Sir, he's just as likely to start a fight and get arrested."

"Please don't try to cheer me up," Mal said to his first mate. "Okay. Fine. Go. Just try not to do anything too stupid."

"_Xie-xie_, Cap'n," Kaylee said happily, pressing the button to lower the ramp, scampering off quickly with River in tow before he could change his mind.

Jethro nodded quickly and hurried out, Simon following a little more sedately, Bethany in his arms.

"Thought you were going?" Mal asked Zoe.

"Perhaps I'll stay," she said, watching Hank heading back to the bridge, even his back depressed and miserable.

"Fine. But if I come back and my bridge smells of sex, you're grounded for a month."

"Could be worth it, sir."

"Come on," Freya said, trying not to smile. "Otherwise we will be late."


	2. Chapter 2

Inara brought the shuttle into a landing on the small pad, then shut the engine down. Still gripping the control column, she tried to slow her breathing. She felt so close, as if the entire future path of her life was about to be decided.

She pushed her hair out of her face and noticed her hand was shaking.

"Come on," she said to herself. "You're a … well, an ex-Companion. You should be better than this."

Closing her eyes she summoned all her resources, and when she looked out again at Ariel City, she was Inara Serra again.

"Time to go."

--

"Hank?" Kaylee looked into the bridge.

"Oh, hey," the pilot said, smiling broadly. "Thought you were going to the park?"

"I am. I was. I'm going back … Just something I need to do first." Kaylee smiled somewhat furtively.

"You gotta secret?" he asked. "I'm good at keeping secrets if you want to talk about it."

"No, I just … is the Cortex link in shuttle two working?"

"Sure. Last I looked. Why?"

"Something I need to look up."

"Couldn't you do that from here?"

"No, it's … it's a surprise."

Hank looked at her. Kaylee was really the worst liar in the 'verse, but he took pity on her. "Okay. I'll make sure the link is up by the time you get there." He looked behind her. "Where's Bethany?"

"With River. They're watching the ducks."

"So there are actually ducks?"

"Thanks, Hank," Kaylee said distractedly, hurrying off towards the shuttle.

--

"You were no help," Mal complained as he walked beside Freya.

"Was I supposed to be?"

"They could get into a hell of a lot of trouble on this planet."

"And you think they'd be speaking to you back on board if you didn't let them go?"

"Be quiet, though."

Freya smiled. "Now you know you hate it when they do that."

"Maybe. But that don't excuse you not backing me up. I am captain, you know."

"And you do it so well." They walked slowly along in companionable silence for a minute or two before Freya spoke again. "We could have waited, you know. For somewhere else. Somewhere not quite so … central."

"Simon said this doctor was the best." Mal glanced at her. "You think I won't get the best for you?"

"But there are other doctors. Persephone must have some, Boros, even –"

He stopped and faced her. "Frey, they ain't the best. They're … quacks, most of 'em. I know. Seen good people go to 'em for toothache and come out with less limbs than they had."

"I don't think they'd operate on me."

"Stop being all reasonable here when I'm trying to make a point!" Mal insisted.

"Fine. Go ahead."

"Which is that mostly their qualifications ain't worth the paper they're very badly printed on. Dr Yi, according to Simon, is a proper psycho-thingy with more letters after her name than we've had sex."

"That many."

"Yeah. So it seems to me that this is the best place to be right now. For you."

"And if they do get arrested?"

"Hell, I didn't want 'em goin' out in the first place!" He leaned closer. "The fact that they did is partly your fault."

"You could have put your captainy foot down."

"I did. Someone trod on it."

"Sorry." She didn't sound it though.

"Look, Kaylee and River ain't that far from the ship. Simon's grown smart enough to know not to do anything foolish, and Jethro … well, he ain't had the practice yet at getting into trouble. I figure Jayne's the one I need to worry about most here. And believe me, I wish I wasn't saying that. Feels unnatural."

"What about Inara?"

"This is her kind of world. How much trouble can she get into here?"

"Oh, Mal," Freya laughed, shaking her head. "I will remind you of those very words when she gets kidnapped by slavers and you have to go make the big rescue."

"Slavers, huh?" He moved closer still, putting his hand on her waist. "I thought that was just you."

"Shit happens," she said, lifting her face so he could kiss her.

A couple walking by sniffed pointedly.

"Um, we seem to be making something of a spectacle of ourselves," Mal said, backing up a little.

"Better get going then." She grinned, moving the crutches enough so she could walk forwards, but winced as her foot hit the ground at slightly the wrong angle.

He didn't put out his hand to steady her, although he really wanted to. "Right, in which case I am making a _captainy_ decision here." He nodded, getting the attention of a hover cab.

"Mal, we can't afford it."

"We'll walk back. Maybe take in the sights. But if we intend to get to that appointment anywhere near on time, we'd better ride."

--

Jethro looked up at the tall buildings and goggled. He wasn't used to a city, the closest he had ever seen having been Greenleaf when he was on the freighter heading for the Bathgate. There had been a plaza there, with the surrounding buildings going up to maybe ten or twelve floors. But these … great steel and glass fingers thrusting into the sky, almost blotting it out …

Someone barged into him, and he brought his attention back.

"Sorry," he said, but the man had already gone without a word. Jethro frowned. Perhaps they weren't as polite on the Core planets as he'd always been led to believe.

Turning around, he saw a public Cortex link and smiled. Just what he needed. Should be plenty of information in there on places to eat, things to do … and where to do them. He grinned and headed towards it.

--

"Dr Yi?"

"Mrs Reynolds. Please come in."

Dr Yi stood up from her desk, coming around with her hand out. "Oh, I do apologise," she added quickly as she saw the other woman was on crutches.

"That's okay." Freya smiled. "Sorry we're late."

"Only a minute." Dr Yi stepped back to her desk, allowing Freya to get a proper view of her. She was a small woman, no more than five feet tall, and dressed in a close-fitting suit of glossy grey, her hair a shining black helmet that seemed to swing in the slightest breeze. Her eyes, almond shaped, were a rather disconcerting deep violet, but it was hard to tell if this was natural or a result of the latest fad for coloured lenses. "Do you need some assistance?" she asked, waiting patiently.

Freya was just about managing to get across the deep pile of the carpet. "No, no, I'm shiny," she said. "I'm still getting used to being on my feet."

"Please, sit."

"If you don't mind, I won't yet. I've been sitting a while, and … do you mind if I just walk about for a few moments?"

"Of course. I'll be preparing my notes." Dr Yi sat down behind her desk as Freya moved slowly around the room.

"_You're doing great," _came Hank's voice over the tiny unit nestled in her ear. _"Nothing so far."_

Freya looked at a painting, some two metres across. "This is rather lovely," she said. It was an abstract, mostly greens and greys, but with one bright, reddish-yellow haze in the top right corner. "A Balzini. One of the early ones."

Dr Yi looked up in surprise. "Yes," she said. "I have an extensive collection, and I rotate them occasionally. You know his work?"

"I've … seen it before." Freya didn't get into the fact that her mother had had several examples.

Dr Yi raised her immaculately plucked eyebrows, and made a mental note not to underestimate this patient. Nor to make snap judgements from her choice of clothes.

"_Other side, Frey,"_ Hank said over the earwig, adjusting the results on his screen from the small scanner in her pocket.

Freya crossed the room, appearing to study the certificates on the wall. "You seem well qualified," she commented, smiling at the doctor.

"I have spent my whole life helping people come to terms with various events, if that's what you mean." A slight accent intruded into her voice.

"But you weren't born on Ariel." Freya turned back. "I'd say, probably … Sihnon. But the southern continent."

"_Way to go,"_ Hank grinned_. "Put her on the defensive. And the room's clear, Frey. No recording or observation devices."_

Dr Yi, in the meantime, had sat back in her chair. "You are right. I was born in Chao Li. But I left there when I was …" She stopped. It had been a while since a patient had wrong-footed her, got her to talk rather than the other way around, and she'd have to be more careful.

Freya smiled. "Thanks," she said, adding quickly, "For seeing me."

"_You're welcome,"_ Hank said_. "You need us, just shout."_

There was a click in the earpiece, indicating he'd switched off the com.

"Didn't want to listen in?" Zoe asked, her hand on his shoulder.

"I considered it," Hank admitted. "But I'm not sure I could take what Freya has to say." He shook his head. "Coward like me."

Zoe squeezed gently.

--

"Won't you sit?" Dr Yi asked.

Freya nodded, and manoeuvred herself over the chair. As she lowered herself gingerly she thought _River, go away_.

There was a taste of sunshine. _But you need_ –

_I don't want you listening in_.

_I know it all already_.

_River._

_Yes, momma_. Freya felt River smile then she was alone in her head.

"Would you prefer to use the couch?" Dr Yi asked, somewhat belatedly. "More comfortable."

"No, I'm fine here." Freya smiled. "I'm not sure I want to feel too vulnerable."

"Very well." Dr Yi picked up her pen. "I'll be making notes as we talk, but I don't use any other recording device."

Freya's smile widened. "No. That's fine."

Dr Yi gave her an odd look, then asked, "What did you specifically wish to talk about? The young man who made the appointment was unclear on that subject."

Freya swallowed. "This," she said, indicating her body. "What was done to it. Why I feel guilty over it."

Dr Yi glanced at the crutches. "Then this was not an accident?"

"No. A man …"

Outside in the waiting area, Mal checked the clock on the wall for the fourth time in two minutes. Another fifty to go. He shifted uneasily in his seat, feeling naked without his gun. But there were Feds everywhere, and an armed man was going to get pinched, even if he wasn't doing anything more than walking down the street.

He hated the Core. So many Alliance. But for Freya, he'd face the fires of hell. Even go to see this Dr Yi himself. Not that he needed to talk to anyone. Nothing in his past he needed to discuss.

In fact, he considered himself to be a surprisingly well adjusted man. For a thief and a liar.

He grinned to himself and looked at the clock again and his brows drew down again. Damn, but he wished he were armed.

--

Jethro turned into the side street and stopped. Now that was more like it.

The Cortex had given him a dozen addresses, but the first six were far too elegant, too … Not for River, of course. She'd be at home in any one of them, but he would have felt … wrong. He didn't have the money for them either, but that was beside the – no actually it was the point. It would have been terrible if they'd enjoyed their meal and then had to wash dishes to pay for it. That was theft.

This place, on the other hand, was small, intimate, and – from the prices outside – much more within his range. And there was a couple of hotels not too far.

For a moment he let his mind dwell on dessert, then glanced around guiltily. No, no-one to see the blush that had burned up his chest and across his face. Then he pushed open the door and walked inside.

"Can I help you?" asked a young man, appearing as if by magic. "Do you wish a table?"

"I … no," Jethro said quickly. "At least, not yet. I wanted to make a booking."

"Of course." The young man smiled ingratiatingly at him, and moved a little closer. "For just yourself? Or will you be entertaining a guest?"

"Myself and a young lady."

The smile dimmed a little. "Of course." He became more business-like and stepped behind a small lectern, bringing up the night's reservations on the screen. "And when would you be intending to join us?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow …" The young man hummed a little. "Yes, we have a table for two at 7.30. Is that suitable?"

"That sounds … sounds fine." Jethro smiled.

"And what name shall I put this under?"

"McCall. Jethro McCall."

"Jethro? Such a nice name." The man tried again. "And is it your sister's birthday?"

"She's not my sister."

"Pity," he breathed. "Well, we will require a deposit. Unfortunately, we have had a rash of people lately who book and then don't turn up." He eyed Jethro meaningfully, as if he believed he might just be of that persuasion. "It will, of course, be deducted from your bill at the end of the evening."

"Of course." Jethro reached into his pocket. "How much will …" His voice faded and he tried the other pocket. Then his jacket. His shirt. Back to the first pocket. "I don't …"

"Is there a problem, sir?"

"I … my money's gone." He turned to stare out into the street. "I must have … but I …"

The young man sighed. "I think sir might find his pocket has been picked," he said, shaking his head. "We've had something of a rash of that too in the past few weeks. There's a team, apparently. One person knocks into you, and your wallet is immediately whisked away to be emptied at leisure."

Jethro closed his eyes. The man who barged into him in the street. It had to have been then. "I don't believe this."

"We take credit."

"No, I don't –"

"You should report it to the Federal station around the corner." The young man wiped the booking from the screen. "And when you have some more money, come back. I'm sure we can accommodate you."

Jethro's skin burned and he rushed out of the restaurant.

--

Inara lifted her pale blue drink and took a sip. It tasted of oranges but she hardly noticed. She'd had to have something so she didn't look out of place in the bar, but … she knew it hadn't worked. Women like her just didn't come into places like this, and certainly not alone.

"Want some company?" asked a growly voice.

She looked up. It was a man who seemed to fill her view, barrel-chested and sweaty, his bald head glistening.

"Thank you, but no." She smiled, with just a little chill in it. "I'm waiting for someone."

"Might be me."

_Buddha, I hope not_, Inara thought. "I don't think so."

"Could be. If you were a bit nicer." He tried to grin at her, showing he was missing several front teeth.

"I'm not nice," she said, almost sounding regretful. "Just ask my husband."

"You oughtta tell him he shouldn't be leavin' you in a place like this," the man said, leaning down and breathing beer fumes over her. "Some folks ain't as polite as me."

"I'll pass on the message."

"You do that," he said, patting her on the shoulder before ambling back to the bar, just an ordinary drunk, probably quite nice once you got to know him.

Inara sighed and went back to her drink_. Next time_, she thought, _I'm going to pick the rendezvous_.

"Miss Serra?"

She looked up again, about to politely tell the man to leave her alone, but stopped. He looked as out of place in this bar as she felt. "Yes?"

"I'm Halliday. I believe I have some information that you require."

"Please sit."

He nodded and joined her, lifting his coattails out of the way. "Would you care for a drink?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine." She didn't take her eyes from his face. "Please, what can you tell me?"

He looked around, checking they were not likely to be overheard. "My fee?"

"I have the money. Now, what do you know?"

His gaze made her skin crawl. He might be cleaner and much more expensively dressed than the drunk who had spoken to her before, but she felt dirty just sitting at the same table as him. He smiled. "Miss Serra, I know where your son is."


	3. Chapter 3

"How was it?" Mal asked, getting to his feet as the door opened and Freya hobbled out.

"Fine," she said.

"Really." He looked into her eyes. "You wanna try that with a little more conviction? 'Cause you're as pale as a sheet right now."

"It was … difficult," she admitted, letting him help her to a chair and sit down. "I … things …" She stumbled to a halt.

"I understand, _ai ren_," he said softly, squatting down next to her. "That's why we're here."

"Mr Reynolds?" Dr Yi stood in the doorway. "If you're ready?"

Mal got to his feet. "Always," he said, smiling charmingly. He followed the diminutive doctor.

"Good luck," Freya called, stretching her legs out as far as possible and putting her head back on the chair.

Don't need luck, Mal thought to himself as he entered the office. Just a strong will. He looked around. And something to stop the feeling that he was out of his depth.

"Please, sit down," Dr Yi said, indicating the chair opposite.

"Darn it, you mean I don't get to lie on the couch?" he asked, tucking his thumbs into his suspenders.

"If you'd like to."

He grinned. "No, just joshing with you, doc. This here'll be fine." He sat down in the chair and leaned back, lifting the front legs off the ground.

Dr Yi gazed at him. "Comfortable?" she asked.

"Surely am."

"Mr Reynolds –"

"Captain. It's Captain Reynolds. Got me a sweet little ride of a boat, just parked out near here. Little darlin' she is too."

"Captain. My apologies. And may I ask …" Dr Yi didn't blink her violet eyes. "… are we going to be having this shit-kicker persona for the whole hour?"

Mal's eyebrow went up. "Is that what I'm doing?"

"Mr … Captain Reynolds, I promise you, I am not going to hurt you."

"I never considered the possibility that you were."

"No?"

Mal reassessed the woman in front of him, and realised he had been mistaken. There was steel inside that small frame.

"Please accept _my_ apologies," he said, setting the chair back down. "It's … it was Freya's idea for me to come see you, and I guess –"

"You don't think you need to?"

"Something like that."

"Lots of people feel that way before seeing me."

Mal's lips twitched. "I'm sure they do."

Dr Yi suddenly smiled. "Captain Reynolds, your wife thought it would help you to talk about things. Why would that be, do you think?"

"Frey's … she takes care of me."

"And specifically?"

"Doc, I'm pretty sure she's told you what happened. Least, some of it."

"Some."

"But you ain't gonna tell me what."

"Captain, there is a little matter of doctor/patient –"

"Yeah, I know all about that. But I'm here because it'll help her. Not me. I don't have the coin to go wasting on talking about things that are dead and buried."

"An interesting phrase, Captain. Just who is dead and buried?"

Mal raised his head. He was going to have to be a lot more careful what he said around this woman. Small she may be, but she was tricky as hell.

--

Kaylee had been staring at the screen for a long while and her eyes felt like they were full of grit. It didn't help that she was crying at the same time.

"Should you be sitting in the dark doing this?" Zoe asked, leaning on the bulkhead, her arms crossed.

The young mechanic wiped her face quickly. "What are you doing here?" she asked, sniffing hard.

"Hank said you might want to talk. Do you?"

"Seems like everybody's talkin' at the moment. Only some folks ain't saying nothing."

Zoe was surprised at the bitterness in her voice, and pushed off from the wall. Stepping onto the small bridge, she looked down at the young woman. "What is it, Kaylee? What aren't people saying?"

Fresh tears ran down her cheeks as she tapped the screen with more force than was strictly necessary. "This," she said.

Looking over her shoulder, Zoe realised Kaylee had logged onto a medical database. "What are you –"

"This is what Simon's taking!"

Serenity's first mate read the screen.

'_Hyprobetamoxomol. Used in the regeneration of the cardiac muscle. Has also been used with some success in the treatment of Kroll's Disease, almost exclusively affecting settlers from the Georgia and Aberdeen cluster.'_

"Kaylee –"

"I saw it. The label. That's what he's gone to get more of." She sniffed hard.

Zoe scrolled the screen down to read on.

'_Kroll's Disease, infectious only in it's initial stages, and at a comparatively low diagnostic level, affects the spermatic ducts and the seminal vesicle, causing atrophy if left untreated. HBTM treatment is only effective in the first twelve months, as after this point there is a reduction curve indicating primary loss of …'_

"Kaylee, I don't understand this."

"That ain't the important bit. This is." She scrolled further.

'_While HBTM is effective in the majority of cases of Kroll's Disease if prescribed sufficiently early, in the later stages the dosage required can have an adverse effect on the cardio-pulmonary system and the minor blood vessels in the parietal lobe. Symptoms of this can include nausea, parietal pain, increased tendency towards …' _

Zoe couldn't read any more because Kaylee slammed her hand down onto the screen so hard she cracked the plexiglass. "He's taking this?" she asked quietly.

Kaylee nodded. "To give me a baby." She put her head down onto her arms and began to sob.

"I thought it was just … I mean, I know these things can take time."

"No. He figured he caught this … this Kroll's thing from one of the Reaver victims on Corvus. Thinks he's the reason I ain't getting pregnant." She lifted her tear-stained face to Zoe. "Why's he doing this?"

"For you, _mei-mei_."

"But this … I understand enough to know that it could kill him! Stroke, heart attack … and he can't stop, not now!"

"Why not?"

Kaylee nodded towards the screen, but it had shorted out. "It says, in that, if he stops it can … the initial doses are so high that if he stops now, without tailing them off, he could … oh, Zoe."

The older woman gathered her into her arms, rocking gently. "It's okay, Kaylee. He wouldn't do this if he thought it was dangerous."

"But this says!" Kaylee pulled back, pointing at the dead screen. "It _is_ dangerous."

"And Simon's a doctor. And he's not so in love with you that he'd consider missing out on seeing Bethany grow up."

Kaylee was shocked. "Yes he is."

Zoe smiled a little. "All right, he is. But he's not doing this lightly. He loves you, Kaylee, wants you to be happy."

"I am happy!" She sniffed back tears.

"But he thinks you'd be happier with another baby."

"Why didn't he talk to me about this before he did it?" Kaylee wailed suddenly.

"Is that it?" Zoe asked. "He didn't talk to you first?"

"No. I mean yes. I mean … he just went ahead and did it."

"So you think he'd have gone into all this detail if he had? Told you what might happen?"

"Maybe." Zoe didn't respond, just looked at the younger woman. "Okay, probably not," Kaylee finally conceded. "But he … he still should've told me what he was planning."

"And I think you need to talk to him about it now. Tell him what you've found out."

Kaylee nodded. "I guess."

"And don't shout at him."

"I don't!" She smiled, just a little. "Much."

"You're as noisy as you are when you're making love sometimes," Zoe said, her own lips twitching.

"Well, he riles me so."

"And he'll keep on doing it, too."

"I hope so." Kaylee got up. "Better get my tools, get this fixed before the Cap'n sees it and docks me to pay for it."

"Probably a good idea."

Kaylee wiped her face on her sleeve and started to leave. Then she turned back. "Zoe, I ain't wanting a baby so much that I'm willing to lose Simon for it."

"You won't," Zoe said, hoping she wasn't lying.

--

Freya sat in the waiting room, trying not to listen. It wasn't fair, she knew. All these things she wasn't able to tell him, but she could listen in, if she wanted, to the words he wasn't saying to Dr Yi. And she tried not to. She really tried.

She'd not told anyone about her abilities coming back. Mal knew, had to have done after the way she created the illusion for him the night before. But he'd been pretty sure before that. She'd picked up on River's frantic mindwave from Corvus, and knowing their baby was a boy … even that Mal wanted to call him Ethan, for his father.

And now, all she needed to do was concentrate just a little harder …

It was mostly with him. She could pick up flashes of emotion, random thoughts if they were powerful enough, but it was with Mal that she felt at her strongest. Probably why she'd never inflicted her pain and anger on him when her emotions spiralled out of control. No matter what she had said or done, in the small part of her that stayed _her_ she loved him. With all her heart. And when he found her, brought her back out into the light, she'd blossomed. But only truly with him.

It took real effort to pick up on anyone else, and that effort tended to bring up the memories she was trying so hard not to let control her. It had taken all her strength to read the doctor and make sure she wasn't likely to sell them out to the Alliance.

After that it was easier just to talk.

"I couldn't stop them. I knew I was going to die in that room and I couldn't stop them. They didn't want to know anything so I couldn't tell them, couldn't make them stop hurting me." She didn't want to cry, was biting back on the emotion, but it spilled out with the words. "All I could do was scream, calling for Mal, knowing he was never going to … that he'd find me like that."

No names, no indication who'd done it, but that didn't matter.

"And you feel you were guilty? Some sort of compliance in the pain?"

"I couldn't stop them."

"Did you want to stop them?"

"Of course! They were hurting me …"

"Did you enjoy it?"

Her fists clenched. "No!"

"Then there's no compliance. You didn't give them permission to do this."

"I walked out there knowing it was a trap."

"Yes. To save your son."

"But I –"

"Would you do it again?"

"What?"

"Would you, knowing what they did to you, knowing the pain that resulted, the terrible injuries, walk alone into that trap again to save your son?"

Freya stared at her. "I …"

"Please. Answer truthfully."

She licked dry lips. "I … yes. I would. To save Ethan."

"And your husband?"

"Yes."

"Then you are quite possibly stupid, but not complicitous." Dr Yi tempered her words with a slight smile. "Mrs Reynolds, what you are feeling is natural. To survive sometimes is harder than to give in. Dying can seem to be the easier option. Doesn't it?"

Freya nodded. "Sometimes," she admitted in a small voice.

"But I think it is the loss of control that is more disturbing to you. Is there some incident –" A chime sounded from her desk. "But our time is up." The smile became wider, warmer. "I think we have made some progress. But I would like to see you again. Tomorrow?"

"Um, yes. I … yes, that will be fine."

"Good."

And now she was waiting for Mal. And all she needed to do was concentrate just a little harder …

"… and I killed him." Mal was matter of fact about it. "Ended the man who did that to Frey."

"I see." Dr Yi sat back, studying him. "How?"

"I shot him." He crossed his arms. "Between the eyes. Dead."

"I see."

"Do yah?" Mal almost laughed. "'Cause sometimes I don't."

"What don't you see?"

"How this is helping." He was intentionally blunt but she didn't rise to the bait.

"What did you want to do to him, Captain Reynolds?"

"Did what I wanted. Killed him."

"Why are you so defensive, Captain?"

Mal glared at her, suddenly intensely annoyed at her calmness, her composure, and he wanted to shake her. "You want to know what I wanted to do? To the man that left my wife on a God-forsaken hunk of rock, wrapped in a tarpaulin, almost every damn bone in her body broken?" He leaned forward. "You want to know? Doc, I wanted to take hold of him in my bare hands, tear him open and reach into his chest and rip out his heart. I wanted to be elbow deep in his blood, doctor. I wanted to gouge out his eyeballs so he'd never look on anything ever again. And even then it wouldn't have been enough. Never enough for what he did." He sat back, sweating slightly. "Puttin' a bullet in his brainpan was easy. Too easy a way for him to die."

"Why didn't you do that to him?"

"Because that ain't the man Frey married. Maybe before, after ... after the war, maybe I could have. Took a lot of folks that way, after what they'd seen. But no matter how empty I became, still am, God knows, that ain't me no more. And I'd never let her down like that. Not and still expect her to keep loving me."

Outside, in the warm sunlight streaming in through the windows, Freya couldn't stop the tears from running down her cheeks.


	4. Chapter 4

Jayne was just walking. He didn't know where, and he didn't much care. His head was down and his hands were in his pockets, ignoring the people he passed. People who tended to get out of his way, if truth be told. A big man exuding trouble tended to do that.

It weren't fair. He shook his head. It just straight up weren't fair. There he was deciding to stay on Serenity, and havin' to ask Mal's permission …

"Thought you'd want to get gone," the captain had said, leaning against a stack of crates in the bay. "Ain't Badger waiting for you?"

Jayne knew he was baiting him a little, but let him get away with it. "Badger was … hell, I didn't want to be workin' for him in the first place. Most of the time I felt like tearing him a new one, but I didn't."

Mal smiled. "Very restrained of you, Jayne."

"So I kinda figured, if you hadn't got anyone else, which I see you ain't, that … well … maybe …"

"You're asking for your old job back?" Mal crossed his arms.

"Yeah," Jayne finally admitted.

"Well, see, that may be difficult. Jethro's coming along real well, and soon as he learns to shoot straight I'm thinking he may be just the person to take your place. Especially since he don't eat me out of the entire contents of the kitchen every day, and makes do with seven percent."

"Aw, Mal …"

"And we've kinda got used to you not being around the place with all your noxious odours and worse language."

"Mal …"

"Except that I think little Bethie would never forgive me if I said no."

"Mal, come on, I …" He stopped, the last words sinking in. "You mean I can stay?"

"Ground rules, Jayne. You don't kill Jethro. Even if provoked." Jayne went to speak but Mal went on, "And no maiming. Not even a tattoo."

"Mal, that ain't fair."

"Life sometimes goes that way." He gazed at the big man. "But you've done a lot for Freya, and I'm grateful."

"She's …" Jayne paused. "I ain't never had a sister, least not one that lived, and I guess maybe …" He blushed, hating himself for it.

"Yeah," Mal said softly. "Figured that might be it."

"Don't you go tellin' her," Jayne said quickly, more bluster in his voice now. "She'd like as die laughing."

"Somehow, I doubt that." Mal put his hand on the mercenary's arm. "Welcome home, Jayne."

Only now he didn't feel like he was home, not here on this damn planet. It didn't help that everywhere he turned on the ship there was that damn Preacher and River getting all … lovey. Nor did it matter the man hadn't actually taken the vows or nothing … far as Jayne was concerned, he was still a Preacher and he should keep his hands to himself. That's what Book would've done. Not that Book would've looked at River that way anyway. More likely just kept his Bible out of her reach.

He wandered morosely down a street lined with shops.

Damn, but it made it so hard sometimes being around happy folks. He had his guns, his own right hand, but times came when he needed … and so far he hadn't even found sight nor sound of a whorehouse. Not that he really felt like it. Not really. It was just another way to get his mind out of that room.

"_Oh, tee wuh duh pee-goo_," he muttered. Someone was heading towards him, and it looked like Jethro.

"Jayne?" the young man said as they got closer, sounding surprised.

"Ain't no-one else," the big man muttered, then noticed the depressed expression on Jethro's face. "What you been doing got you so all fire down? I figure it ain't just meeting me."

Jethro looked hunted. "Nothing."

"Don't seem like nothing. Come on. 'Fess up. I ain't gonna hurt ya." Not since Mal told me not to.

"Gorram it," Jethro breathed.

"Did you just cuss?" Jayne asked, his spirits beginning to lift. "Badly, but that's what it sounded like."

"No."

"Lying too. Don't seem to me like we're a good influence on you."

Jethro sighed. "All right. I just …" He explained what had happened, although not about the plan for later. He had the niggling suspicion that Jayne wouldn't take kindly to that.

Jayne burst out laughing, a deep, booming sound that had everyone else turning around in dismay. He clapped a hand on the other's shoulder. "Well, if that don't beat all."

"I'm glad someone's getting some pleasure out of it." Jethro sounded so miserable Jayne just redoubled his mirth. "Please don't tell anyone."

"Oh, I think I'll keep this gem to myself for a while," Jayne said, wiping his eyes. "Til the right moment."

_Oh God,_ Jethro thought, and wondered whether he could commit murder in broad daylight and get away with it. Maybe it would be justifiable homicide.

--

Simon lifted his hand to shade his eyes from the sunlight. It seemed all too bright today, and he wished he still had his tinted glasses. But they'd got broken somehow while he and River were on Jiangyin, half a lifetime ago, and he'd never got around to replacing them. Today he wished he had.

Turning the corner he could see the small park in front of him, a pocket handkerchief of green amongst the concrete and steel. Something flew overhead, and as he looked up he smiled. There really were ducks here.

He walked slowly towards the swings, seeing his sister sitting on one, his daughter up to her knees in the sandpit.

"Daddy!" Bethany cried as he got closer, lifting up her hands and letting yellow sand slip through her fingers. "Beach!"

"Hey, sweetie," he smiled. "What are you doing with Ethan?"

"Playing," she said proudly, pointing to where Mal's son was half buried.

"Playing what?"

"Arc … archa …archo …" She looked for assistance to her aunt.

"Archaeology," River explained, her dress fluttering in the breeze. "Ethan's a mummy from Earth-that-was and she's just excavated him."

"Any particular one?" Simon asked, lifting him out of the pit and brushing as much of the yellow dust off him as he could.

"Tutankhamun."

"The boy king. Appropriate. I'm not sure Mal will see it the same way, though." He put Ethan carefully on the grass, where he lay gurgling happily, waving his arms in an effort to sit up. "Where's Kaylee?" he asked, sitting down in the sandpit next to his daughter.

"She said she had a few things to do back on Serenity," River said, swinging a little, her bare feet pumping.

"What sort of things?"

"Things."

He looked at his sister. "River, I don't want to play games. Just tell me."

"Daddy not play?" Bethany asked, gazing into his face.

"Not with you, sweetheart. I'll always play with you. Even when you're old enough to answer a direct question." He turned back to River.

"I don't think I'm supposed to tell." River pumped harder, her toes pointing towards the sky.

"_Gingwa cao de liumang_, River, just damn well tell me!"

Bethany put her hand over her mouth. "Daddy swore," she whispered.

River put her feet down and stopped, just staring at him.

Immediately Simon felt ashamed. He lifted Bethany onto his lap. "Yes, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. There was no reason for me to. And don't tell your mother."

Bethany giggled. "'Kay, Daddy." She wriggled off his lap and carried on digging.

He turned back but River was at his side, feeling his forehead. "You have a temperature."

"I'm fine."

"You're not. You have a temperature and you cursed." She shook her head. "That is not fine."

"_Xiao mei-mei_, I'm sorry. I'm not feeling too good at the moment."

"No." River gazed at him, her eyes dark wells. "And I don't think it's going to get better any time soon."

"What do you mean?"

"I think Kaylee was going to look a few things up on the Cortex."

"You mean …" His eyes widened in shock. "Oh shit." He scrambled to his feet. "Can you –"

"Of course. Just go."

Simon nodded gratefully and took off at a run back towards Serenity.

"Daddy mad?" Bethany asked.

"Well, he's not very sane right now," River agreed, picking Ethan up from the grass and rocking him gently.

--

Inara stepped back inside her shuttle and closed the door. As much as she wanted to cleanse herself of the feeling of grime after sitting for just that short while with Halliday, she needed a calming tea more.

She headed to the small kitchen and put the water on to heat with a slightly trembling hand, going through the motions by habit rather than with any conscious thought. The pot, the bowl, the little caddy of camomile to help soothe, all that took only a tiny part of her mind, while the rest was on the information she'd been given.

Halliday was a good investigator, high recommended, and he had achieved in just a few days something Inara, with all her contacts, hadn't been able to do at all. It didn't mean she had to like him, though.

But if what he said was true, then her son was so close …

It was no good. She hurried to her Cortex link and brought up the details of scheduled flights off Ariel. She couldn't ask Mal – he'd done so much for her, and now he was so tied up in Freya it wouldn't be fair … no, this she had to do by herself. Her son, her responsibility.

As the water boiled and sang, she scrolled through screen after screen until she found what she wanted. What she needed.

--

Kaylee had managed to get the screen off the console in shuttle two, but was having problems fixing the short.

"Kaylee?"

Her hand slipped and there was a spark. She jumped back in shock. "_Ben tian sheng de fei fei de pi yan_," she said loudly, kicking out at the console.

"Are you all right?" Simon asked, ducking onto the small bridge. "Show me."

"I'm fine."

"Show me." His tone brooked no objection, and she grudgingly gave him her hand.

"It's just a little burn."

"We should get some salve on it –"

"It's fine." She pulled her hand away. "Get worse from Serenity's engine. Never took much notice of it before, ain't gonna start."

Simon looked at her. "Kaylee …"

"What?" she asked, picking up her tools again.

"What were you looking up?"

She didn't turn, but he could see a flush rise on the back of her neck where her hair was caught up in an untidy tail. "Who said I was looking anything up?"

"Kaylee."

"It just got broke, is all." She reached into the workings of the screen, more gingerly this time. "Coulda been any time."

"So Zoe telling me you were looking at a medical database is all wrong."

Suddenly her knees wouldn't hold her and she sank onto the chair. "People talk too much," she whispered.

"I'm beginning to think they don't talk enough," her husband said, going down onto his heels next to her. "Maybe we should go with Freya and Mal tomorrow. Clear the air."

"Don't need the air cleared," Kaylee mumbled. "Just don't want you to die."

"I'm not going to die, Kaylee." He put his hand on her shoulder.

"Everybody dies." She looked up and him, her face pale. "Nature of the 'verse. But I don't want you to die _now_."

"What makes you think –"

"I saw it, Simon!" She was angry with him. "That Hyperbeta stuff."

"Hyprobetamoxomol."

"I read about it! Why are you …" She hit him, a punch straight into the chest, pushing him back onto the floor. "Are you crazy?"

Simon rubbed his breastbone. "I'm not the one doing the hitting. And I thought we agreed we weren't going to do that?"

"Don't you try and make fun of me. Don't you _dare_!" She was up out of her seat and heading out of the shuttle before he could clamber to his feet.

"Kaylee! Kaylee!" he called, following her.

"Leave me alone!"

He hurried down the steps, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Kaylee, please stop!"

At the entrance to the common area she span on her heel. "You were just gonna keep taking it, weren't you? Not tell me about what might happen." She shook her head at him. "How could you, Simon?"

"It's for you," he said, bending forward slightly as a stitch in his side caught at him. "It's all for you. For us."

"What's going on?" Mal asked, striding into the bay, Freya not far behind. "I could hear you halfway to the hospital."

"Ask him!" Kaylee shouted, pointing at her husband. "He shouldn't've done it without telling me!"

"Done what?"

"Taken that poison!"

"Poison?" Mal glanced at the doctor, noting his grey pallor. "Kaylee …"

But she was on a roll. "He keeps talking about keepin' secrets being bad, and then he start this without telling me, without …" She turned to look at him and stopped. "Simon?"

He was swaying. "Kaylee, I really don't think …"

His knees began to buckle and he would have fallen, but Mal was there, supporting him, his arms around the young man.

"Simon!" Kaylee yelled, rushing to him.


	5. Chapter 5

"Whoa, there," Mal said, holding the young doctor up. "Let's get you into the infirmary."

"What … Simon, what is it?" Kaylee's anger had turned to utter concern.

"I'm okay." He tried to smile for her as Mal helped him through the common area. "Just feeling a little weak."

"Oh, Simon." She opened the infirmary door and the captain half carried him to the medbed.

"What do I do?" he asked.

"Sensors."

Mal nodded, fixing the various bits of equipment to Simon's finger, his chest. Kaylee held his other hand.

"Honey?" she said, trying not to cry.

"It's okay," Simon assured her. "I think it's just … I haven't eaten today, and what with the nausea …" He glanced at the screen, and released the breath he'd been holding. "It's okay."

"You ain't having a heart attack?" Mal asked.

"It appears not."

"Shiny." He stepped closer. "Now, do you think you could enlighten me as to why you're taking poison?"

"It's not poison."

"Kaylee said –"

"Kaylee over-reacted."

"I did not!" The young mechanic was outraged.

"It's not poison," Simon said again. "It just has a few … unfortunate side effects."

"Yeah, like a heart attack, stroke, and –"

"Kaylee, please." He put his head back on the bed.

"I think you need to be a bit more specific here," Mal said. "What drug?"

"I picked up an infection on Corvus. At least, I presume it was there. It causes … well, sterility."

"Infection?" Mal's thoughts immediately went to the rest of the crew, his wife, his son.

"It's all right. I haven't passed it on to anyone. The infection is gone, although the effects do seem to linger."

"Sterility. That's why Kaylee ain't getting pregnant."

"That's right." Simon closed his eyes. "There is a treatment, but it has a few side effects."

"And you didn't discuss this with Kaylee before you started dosing yourself up?"

"No, he didn't," the woman in question said.

"Can't help feeling you might have made something of a mistake there, doc," Mal said, shaking his head.

"It seems so."

"So now what? You stop taking it?"

"I can't. But the dosage decreases over the next few weeks, and the symptoms will subside."

"How bad?"

Simon knew what he meant. He opened his eyes and looked into Mal's, seeing only concern there. "Pretty bad."

"Any guarantees this'll work at the end?"

Glancing at his wife he debated whether it was worth lying. "No more than 60 percent." He could see Kaylee biting her lip.

"Good job you told the truth, Simon," Mal said gently. "You've got a terrible poker face."

"Is that how come I keep losing to Jayne?" Simon joked feebly.

"Doc, you keep losing to _me_. Which is worse."

"60 percent?" Kaylee said, gripping his hand. "You're going through all this for 60 percent?"

"_Bao bei_, we'll just have to try harder," Simon said, smiling at her.

"You shoulda told me, too," Mal said, crossing his arms. "Least we could've been ready for this."

The young man glared at him as much as he could. "I didn't exactly plan on nearly fainting in your arms."

Mal tried, successfully, not to smile. "That's as may be, but you still should've warned us. What if you'd collapsed outside? On the street? We don't know the Alliance ain't still looking for you."

"They are," River said from the doorway, standing next to Freya. "I'm not sure they're ever going to stop."

"He's okay," Mal said quickly.

"Oh, I know." She certainly didn't look too perturbed.

"Where's Bethany?" Freya asked, looking down for the little girl.

"Hank's entertaining her in the cargo bay. I thought it better for her not to see her father like this."

"And Ethan?"

"Zoe. Same place." River was regarding her brother. "You're a boob, you know that, don't you?"

"You're my sister – you're supposed to be supporting me."

"Not when you're a boob."

"Well, now, I'd say it doesn't matter that much if Simon's a boob or not," Mal put in, feeling odd saying the word himself. "Which, I figure, is something of a foregone conclusion. But I also figure he needs to rest some." He looked down at the young man. "Right?"

"I think that would probably be a good idea."

"Shiny." Mal glanced up at Kaylee. "Don't you think it'd be a good idea if you got him something to eat?"

"Ooh, yes." She nodded enthusiastically. "I can make some soup." She ran out of the infirmary and they heard her going up the stairs.

"Fine." Mal nodded. "And everybody else can just leave too."

"I was going anyway," River said. "Jethro's back." Her brows lifted. "With Jayne." She slipped back towards the cargo bay.

"Jayne and Jethro? Together?" Simon said, attempting to sit up. "I think perhaps I'd better –"

"You ain't going anywhere, doc. Not till you and me have had a little chat."

"If they start killing each other –"

"Then we'll clear up the entrails later."

Freya smiled then turned back. "Do you want me to go keep an eye on them?"

"Just for a while."

"As long as there isn't entrails."

"Thanks." Mal smiled at his wife, waited for her to make her awkward way up the steps, then turned back to the man on the bed. "Right. Now you can tell me the truth."

"Truth?" Simon stared at him. "I thought you said I had a terrible poker face."

"You do. Which is how come I know there's more to this than meets the eye." He let a beat go by. "So just how dangerous is this treatment?"

Simon closed his eyes again. "Kaylee's right. She shouldn't have looked it up, not without me to explain things, but she's right." He sighed.

"Tell me."

As Simon went over the possible problems, Mal's face tightened.

"… but it'll be worth it."

"Worth dying for."

"That's not exactly the outcome I'd planned on."

"No. Seems to me you ain't exactly planned this at all."

"Oh, I did," Simon protested. "I knew what I was letting myself in for, Mal. But Kaylee's my wife. And if I can give her the baby she wants, the baby she needs, then I'll do it." He paused. "You'd do it for Freya."

"That's low, doc," Mal warned.

"Maybe. But it's true."

"River's right."

Simon allowed a hollow laugh to escape. "Perhaps. But I walked into this with my eyes wide open."

"Except for the part where you didn't reckon on Kaylee being anxious and doing a little research of her own."

"No, well, that part I didn't quite foresee."

Mal leaned on the edge of the bed. "So now what? Can you tail this stuff off any quicker?"

"I … maybe. But it won't be effective –"

"Doc, I think you've got to make a choice here. This is gonna kill you. No if's or but's about it. You might be strong now, but what I just saw …"

"Kaylee –"

"Kaylee doesn't want you dead. If you don't have any more kids, she's not going to hold it against you. Not now."

Simon stared. "Captain, this isn't something you can order me to do. Not even on _your_ boat."

"Try me."

The young doctor wanted to argue, wanted to say it was his decision, not Mal's, but he knew in his heart the captain was right. He looked into Mal's face. "This was a warning," he admitted. "I didn't say anything to Kaylee but the tachycardia was just a little high –"

"Tachy …"

"My heart was racing," the young doctor explained. "Too fast."

"And if it had kept on? Or got worse?"

"Well, you'd either have had to call an ambulance or an undertaker."

"Except for the fact that you're sick I truly admit that I'd take you outside and beat the crap out of you," Mal said in frustration.

"Good job I'm sick, then."

"She's not stupid, Simon." Mal put his hand on his shoulder. "She knows just how this could have gone."

"I know," Simon admitted quietly.

"Tail it off. Now. Fast as you can. And you don't leave the ship. Not for anything. Not 'til you can put your hand on your tachy-whatsit heart and tell me you ain't in any more danger, _dong mah_?"

Simon nodded. "I understand."

"Good." Mal shook his head. "Love's a bitch, ain't it?" he added.

"That it is."

--

"How did it go?" Zoe asked Freya as she prepared the evening meal.

"Good." Freya watched as the first mate dumped the carrots into the pot. "Don't you think they're a bit big?"

"They'll be fine. Good to have some fresh vegetables for a change."

"One of the perks of being on a Core planet. Doesn't mean they cost less though."

Zoe laughed. "No." She turned her head. "So how good? On a scale of, say, one to ten."

"The carrots?"

"The counselling."

Freya leaned against the counter, letting her legs take most of her weight, still trying to get used to it. "About … three and a half."

"Three."

"And a half."

"That good."

"It was hard, Zoe," Freya admitted. "The things I needed to say, I really didn't want to. But I knew … I know I have to."

"You're going back?"

"Tomorrow. She wants to see us both several more times."

"For how long?"

Freya sighed. "If we had the coin I think she'd like to make it a year."

Zoe turned to stare at her. "You're that sick?"

Now her friend laughed. "Not me."

"Oh. Well, I can believe it of Mal."

They both laughed.

"Can I help?" Jethro asked, stepping down into the galley.

"No, we got this," Zoe said.

"Please. I'd like something to do."

"I guess you can chop the onions if you like." Zoe indicated some large specimens on the board.

"Fine." He picked up a knife and began to peel them.

"You okay?" Zoe asked, glancing at Freya, who also had a quizzical look on her face.

"Fine."

"Only you seem a little down."

"I'm fine."

"You can overuse that word, you know."

"It's just …" He bit his lip.

"What?" Freya asked. When he didn't respond, she added, "I could get Mal to order you. Or Jayne."

He looked up to glare at her. "That won't be necessary."

"Then what is it?"

"I …" Now he looked ashamed. "I lost my money."

"You … how?"

"My pocket got picked." He shook his head in anger at himself. "First day on a Core planet and I am so stupid as to get my pocket picked and lose every cent I have."

"Is that …" Zoe tried to keep a straight face. "Is that what Jayne was smiling about? It seemed all kinds of wrong that he'd be happy being in your company."

"He … I told him. And I wish I hadn't. He's going to make my life hell over this, isn't he?"

"Probably."

"How could someone do this?"

Freya looked at Zoe. "It happens."

"Not to you!" He waved the knife at them. "You're all so aware that no-one could have got close enough to do it to you!"

"And so will you be, now."

"Yes, but that makes it too late!"

"For what?"

He bit down on his lip again. "Nothing," he mumbled, going back to the onions.

"It would have been nice," River said from the doorway. "But it's not necessary."

"Yes it was!" He glared at her. "I wanted to do it!"

Zoe and Freya exchanged baffled glances.

"I know." River put her head to one side. "Don't be upset."

"I'm not."

"I can see it."

"Damn it, River, stop reading my mind!" He threw the knife down and stormed out of the galley, pushing past her.

"He's being silly," River said quietly, following him.

"Any idea what that was about?" Zoe asked.

"I'd say Jethro's big romantic gesture just when down the intake."

"Ah." Zoe shook her head. "Poor kid."

River caught up with him outside her room, and pulled him inside. "It's all right," she said. She made him sit down on the bed, and climbed up behind him.

"No it isn't," he said.

She put her arms around him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I don't mind," she said softly.

"I do!" He stood up suddenly. "I wanted … it was going to be special, River. Just the two of us. You and me." He began to pace, saying bitterly, "It would never have happened to Mal."

"I don't want to sleep with Mal," River pointed out. "Not any more."

He stopped and stared at her. "You mean you …"

She smiled, and he realised she was joking. "I never did." Standing up she crossed the room to him, putting her arms around him. "It was a lovely thought. You and me in a restaurant. I could have borrowed one of Inara's dresses, you could have worn that gold shirt you didn't let me buy you, just like a proper couple. Real people."

"You are real," he protested, holding her close.

"But I don't need that, Jethro."

"But I do."

She looked up into his brown eyes. "Why?"

"River, I want to make love to you. But … I can't. Not here. Not with your brother, Mal … I just can't do it."

"We could go to the shuttle."

"It's still the same. Still on board."

"Jethro –"

"No." He'd never sounded so firm. "I wanted this to be our time. And instead I manage to lose all my money and make a total fool out of myself."

"I have money."

Jethro let go in shock. "No!"

"Why not?" She put her head onto one side. "Why shouldn't I pay for us to have sex?"

His jaw dropped before he managed to gather himself. "Because that's not the way it's done!"

"Why not?" she said again. "Jethro, I want you to make me a woman. Why shouldn't I pay?"

Now he pushed her away. "You're making me sound like a whore."

"Do you love me?" she asked, not taking offence and moving away, but not moving closer to him either.

"Yes. You know I do."

"Then how can I make you sound like a whore?"

"River … this isn't … I can't …"

She sighed. "Then we wait. There'll be another job. If you really can't make love to me here, there will be other opportunities." She sat down on her bed, tucking her legs under her, and picked up a book.

He stared at her. "What … what are you doing?"

"Reading," she said, not lifting her head. "You've made the manly decision. And I'm not going to try and change your mind."

"You're … you're not?"

"No." She turned the page.

"River …"

"Yes?"

He sighed. This was terrible, not just the way she was making him feel, but the way he felt in the first place. "I … I have a favour to ask."

"Oh?" She still didn't look up. "What's that?"

"Could …" He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, putting his hand on top of the text. "Would you lend me some money?" he asked. "I have something I need to do."

Her head lifted, and he saw the most beautiful smile on her face. His heart melted.

"Of course, Jethro. And you can pay me back when we get paid again."

"Of course." He sighed. "You know you're going to make me a shadow of my former self, don't you?"

River patted him on the hand, lifting it from her book. "I don't think so. Not yet." If anything her smile widened and she dropped her head and began reading again. "And go and wash your hands. You smell of onions."


	6. Chapter 6

Mal stood in the waiting room and looked out at Ariel City. Too much steel, as far as he was concerned, and people hurrying to get somewhere they didn't want to be in the first place. He liked easy, languorous journeys, and while he still had to have one of those, it was a nice thought. He smiled to himself as he watched a liner take off from the port, and idly wondered where she was headed. Still, much as those newer vessels were all shiny and full of things that actually worked, he wouldn't give up Serenity for anything. Catching sight of his reflection, smiling back at him, his grin widened. They'd have to pry him off that Firefly. Or use dynamite.

He turned to sit down again, putting his hand in his pocket. Damn. He'd forgotten again. He headed for the reception desk.

"'Scuse me," he said, smiling at the young woman sitting behind it. "But … would you know of a good place that repairs jewellery?"

"Jewellery?"

"Rings." Mal turned Freya's wedding and engagement bands over in his pocket, the cut edges sharp against his fingers.

"Oh. Well, there's a jewellers about five minutes away." She smiled at him, noting the brown hair that really needed a cut flopping over his blue eyes, the friendly grin, the big hand hitched into his belt, and felt a tug in her belly. "I could show you if you like. I … have my lunch in an hour."

Mal sighed inwardly. How come he seemed to be this fascinating to women now he was married? Why hadn't it happened before, when he was young, free and single? Oh, yeah, that's right – he was fighting a war at the time. "That's nice of you," he said, keeping the warmth in his voice. "But my wife'll be finished in with your good doctor in about forty-five minutes, and then it's my turn. Get my psychoses out into the light of day."

"Oh well. Another time, perhaps." She became business-like again. "Outside the main entrance, turn right. It's on the corner of the next block."

"Thanks." He glanced towards the doctor's office. "If I'm a little late, can you apologise for me?"

"Of course." She looked back down at her screen, beginning to tap away again, wondering why all the good ones seemed to be snapped up or psychotic. Or possibly both. It just wasn't fair.

Mal headed down to the lobby, shaking his head, aware he'd been dismissed. Maybe he should tell Freya that he'd nearly been abducted and forced into a life of sexual slavery. Or perhaps he'd just tell Jayne to meet him here … no, that would be too cruel. Especially now that he and Jethro seemed to have made up. And nothing good was going to come of that, he was sure. Yeah, probably best just to tell Freya, let her know he wasn't just an old man with no sex appeal. Then she could really have a good laugh.

--

It was not going well. Dr Yi gazed at her patient, shaking her head. "Mrs Reynolds, we spoke in your first session about the control that had been taken away from you. I am getting the impression that this darkness you speak of is another example of that loss of control." She leaned forward. "I'm here to help you. If you'd rather play games that's fine. But we made some real progress yesterday, and as we won't have many more of these sessions, I don't have time to be subtle. What won't you tell me?"

"There are some things I … I just can't."

"In a normal course of treatment I could accept this. But this is not normal. I don't have the time to build trust with you so that you understand I won't do anything to betray it. All I can do is tell you that anything you say to me stays here, within this office, in total confidence. You can tell me anything and I won't judge you. My clients lay bare their souls, Mrs Reynolds. I understand you can't do that. But I need you to be honest with me or our limited time is wasted." She blinked. Just once. "Tell me."

Freya stared at her, then nodded. "I … this is difficult."

"I understand."

"I had been interrogated on the medship that picked me up from Dhu Khang. It wasn't … very pleasant." Pain. Nothing to stop it. Feeling the blood running down the back of her thighs … "I thought … I expected them to keep coming back, but after the fourth session they didn't. I was patched up and … then I heard about Serenity Valley. So many perished there that I thought they'd died. I thought _he'd_ died. That I would never see him again. And I grieved. So much so that I …" She took a deep breath before going on, "I gave up. I didn't want to live in a 'verse where that happened."

"Did you try and kill yourself?"

"No. But I don't think I would've put up that much of a fight if someone else had tried. In fact …"

Dr Yi saw the shudder that ran through her. "Go on."

"I was dropped at the prisoner camp on Santo. Not the best of them, by any means. The camp commander was weak, and the guards were … well, most of them had lost people during the war, and they weren't looking to be sympathetic. Corruption was institutionalised."

"Why would the Alliance allow such a thing?"

Freya shrugged. "Because the war had just ended. We were the losing side. People tend to overlook little things like human rights at times like that." She looked down at her hands. "I didn't care. Not about anything. Not even when I was warned about the gangs. They hunted in packs. Five, sometimes, but usually three or four. Going after anything that looked weaker. Sometimes for better clothes. Food they might have hidden on their person. Or just for sex."

"Excuse me?"

"Independents. Browncoats. And still half way to being Reavers, torn apart by what they'd seen. Not human, not really. Probably not all bad, but their humanity had been stripped away. Not all men on our side were good, just like not all men on the Alliance were bad. But we seemed to have more than our fair share in the camp." She stared out into the sunshine, seeing only the storm that night. "I wanted air. I'd just arrived the day before, and so many people crammed into one shed, it was …I couldn't breath. I went outside, let the rain soak me to the skin. Then someone hit me."

Dr Yi had stopped taking notes.

"I was down in the mud, on my face, half drowning. There were hands all over me, and I couldn't .. I wasn't strong enough to fight them off. They were tearing my clothes, pulling down my pants …"

"Mrs Reynolds -"

"I knew what they were going to do. And I couldn't stop them." She could still feel the cold air on her wet skin, waiting for the pressure, the pain … "Then they let go. I managed to roll over, look up, and there was this angel, his brown coat flapping in the breeze, with a rock in his raised hand. The one who'd tried to … he was bleeding in the mud, and the others had run away. Then the angel said my name." A look approaching wonder crossed her face. "I thought I was dead. I had to be. Mal had his arms around me, pulling my clothes back, holding me …" She looked at Dr Yi. "He thinks I don't remember. I've never spoken about it, but I do. Every single moment from the time they hit me to the time he half-carried me back to his bunk, telling Zoe to get some water to help clean me up. Their bunkhouse was the other side of the camp, otherwise I might have seen …" She stopped. "The point is, if there is one, is that Mal didn't know - couldn't have known - it was me. He would have done it for anyone."

"I don't think that is the point." Dr Yi took a sip of her water. "You were speaking of the darkness."

"I killed them." Freya gazed at her, her crutches leaning against the desk, her body still damaged, still healing. "I found them and I killed them. Let the darkness do it. Let it out just enough to stop them."

"From doing it to someone else."

"No. From doing it to me." Freya leaned forward. "It was so easy. And that scared me more than anything. How easy it was. And how hard it was to put the darkness back, lock it away again. So easy to let it control things. That's why the control is so important to me. Because without it I could kill you without a second thought. Just because I can."

--

"Miss Serra," the ship's Purser smiled. "How nice to have you with us."

"I'm glad you could find space for me. I thought I was going to have to wait."

"Captain Branscombe was most insistent that we give you our best rooms. And he also asks that you join him for dinner tonight."

Inara smiled. "That would be most delightful." She bit her lip a moment. "He does realise I'm no longer a Companion?"

The Purser nodded. "Of course. In fact …" He dropped his head so that they couldn't be overheard. "He told me that it would take the pressure off."

Inara laughed, a gay sound that hid her anxiety. "I won't tell him you told me."

"No, please don't." The Purser lifted his head and signalled to two of the men waiting. "Take Miss Serra's luggage to the Presidential Suite."

"Presidential?" Inara shook her head. "I am honoured."

"It is a delight to have you travelling with us again," the Purser said gallantly.

"You are too kind." She followed the two men with her luggage, not noticing the slim, dark figure slip unseen through the crowds.

--

"I survived."

"How many of your original platoon survived with you?"

Mal glared at her. "Does it matter?"

"Captain Reynolds, there are a multitude of documented cases, from before we left Earth-that-was, of what is commonly called survivor's guilt." She put her slim gold pen down. "An event occurs, be it an accident or a time of war, and people die. Others do not. They live on, only some part of their subconscious says they shouldn't have. That they were not the worthy ones."

"If you're saying I'm wishing I'd died with my men then you're way off the mark."

"No, not at all. But I am saying you're feeling guilty that you didn't."

He got up from his chair and began to pace the room, something akin to a caged beast. "It ain't that way."

"No?" Dr Yi sat forward. "What rank did you hold?"

"Sergeant."

"Really?" She was surprised, having imagined he had been a lieutenant at the very least, but covered it quickly. "Then as a sergeant how many men did you command?"

"By the end, probably a couple of thousand. Maybe more."

"Captain, I have heard of Serenity Valley. Who hasn't? And although the reports were, of course, coloured highly in favour of the Alliance, I am well aware of what happened there. I've had other survivors, from both sides, sitting in that very same chair, telling me how they made it through and then couldn't cope with life afterwards. I know, Captain. So you can be honest with me."

Mal turned to face her. "Honest? Doc, I ain't been honest with myself. I lost all faith in a higher power after that battle ended. After I was told to lay down arms because Command didn't want to carry on. We could have won. I truly believed that. But …"

"They let you down."

"So did God."

"I don't begin to understand faith, Captain. Unfortunately that loss isn't something I can treat."

"Wasn't asking you to." He sat back down. "Kind of my problem."

"Even if you don't believe anymore?"

"It's not so much a case of not believing, as not trusting. I had faith for a long time. Like I had faith in Command doing the right thing. When they didn't, it wasn't that I suddenly thought they didn't exist. I just didn't trust them anymore."

"As interesting as this might be, I'm not sure this is quite the area we should be discussing."

"I thought we just talked?"

"If we had more time, yes. But I have to lead you along certain paths." She glanced at her notes. "The camp at Santo, for instance."

"Not too good," he admitted. "It was …" He stopped. "How'd you know about that?"

"A Browncoat who survived the war. It was highly likely that you'd be incarcerated in -"

"Not that one necessarily. There were over fifty of 'em, dotted around. Yet you mentioned Santo …" He paused then glared at her. "She told you." It was like a rocket going off in his mind. "She told you."

"What do you think your wife told me?"

"About the men who tried to rape her."

"Captain Reynolds, you know I can't -"

"I know she did. I can see it in your eyes." He shook his head. "I thought she'd blocked it out. Never mentioned it again."

"Did that upset you?"

Mal looked at her. "Why should it? They didn't succeed."

"And if they had?"

"She's Freya. It wouldn't change the way I feel about her."

"Can you be so sure about that, Captain?"

Mal sighed. "You want me to be honest? I don't know. Less than two months ago, when I was told the men who hurt her hadn't raped her, I was glad. But only because it was at least something they hadn't done. Hadn't put her through. Would it have stopped me loving her the same way if they had? Doctor, that's something I hope to God I never have to find out. For her sake, not mine."

"But you were still saving people. Still being an honourable man, despite what you say. There is a strong current of decency runs through you, Captain, and that couldn't be wiped out by the war."

"Damn near tried."

"In a war people die. Regrettably, usually a massive number. Whole planets can be depopulated. That's what war is."

"That's it, make me feel good about joining up," Mal half-joked.

"You gave your men hope. Something to keep fighting for when they could have laid down in defeat and let the Alliance roll over them. You saved your wife despite not knowing who she was. You are a good man, Captain Reynolds. And your faith in your family has sustained you, and will go on sustaining you." She closed her mouth, almost as if she'd said too much.

"Doc, that's a pretty speech you just made. And it's nice that you think so well of me. But if you don't mind me saying, you don't know what you're talking about." He smiled sadly. "Frey keeps me on the straight. Like my friends. Otherwise who knows where I'd end up."

"The darkness," Dr Yi murmured.

"Oh, yeah. Frey's right about that. Always have to keep that at bay. And if it is a little easier now, her at my side, then maybe it's something to be grateful for."

The chime sounded on her desk, and Dr Yi sat up. "Finished already," she said, closing her notebook. "Tomorrow?"

"I don't know about that," Mal said. "Got me a whole lot of things I need to get done."

"And there are many other things we need to speak about, not least of which is your faith in God."

Mal stood up. "Not gonna talk about that, doctor. That's between me and Him."

--

Freya got to her feet as Mal came out of the door.

"Okay?" she asked.

Mal looked at her. "I know you killed them," he said softly, seeing her eyes widen in the light. "In the camp. I understand."

"How …" She glanced towards the doctor's office.

"She didn't say anything. But neither did you. I just thought you oughtta know. I figured it out, when they found the bodies."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"Because you didn't. And it ain't important. _We're_ what's important." He put his arm around her waist. "Let's go home."

She stared at him, then smiled. "You're an amazing man."

"No, I ain't. I just love you, is all."

"Even knowing what I did?"

"Uh-huh."

"And that always amazes me."

--

Zoe was staring at the coffee in front of her, the mug held between her hands.

"Got a wave from Badger," Hank said, stepping down into the galley. "Says he's got a job for us. Being his usual, loquacious self, he hasn't told me what it is. He wants Mal to wave him back."

Zoe didn't answer, just stared into her now cold drink.

"You want me to freshen that for you?"

She still sat still.

"Course, the hippopotamus in the cargo bay'll have to go if we have to pick up any cargo. Takes up far too much room. Not sure why Jayne bought it in the first place. Calling it Freya, too …" He stopped and looked at her. She still took no notice of him. Sighing, he pulled the chair out next to her and sat down. "Okay, what is it?"

"What?" Finally she turned to look at him.

"Whatever it is. I may not be fully qualified, but I'm good at listening." He put his hand on hers. "Just talk to me."

Zoe stared at him. "I'm fine," she said at last. "Tired, probably."

"You tossed and turned all night. You sure there's nothing you want to tell me? Maybe you should go see Simon, get him to check you over before he dies."

"Simon's not going to die."

"Not what Kaylee thinks," Hank pointed out. "I had her on the bridge for two hours earlier, going on about how much of an idiot her husband is, and what she was intending to do to him as soon as he was well enough."

"They're in love."

"Well, so are we," Hank pointed out. "And I want to help. Whatever the problem is, I'm there for you."

Zoe gazed into his honest grey eyes, and opened her mouth to speak.

"Anyone know where Frey keeps the spare diapers?" Jayne asked, carrying Ethan into the galley.

Hank felt like swearing, only little Bethany was following the big man. "Your timing, as always, is impeccable," he contented himself with saying.

"Huh?" Jayne shook his head. "This one needs changing, and I can't find no spares."

"Probably in River's room," Zoe said, standing up. "I thought she was looking after them today."

"She asked me to sit for a while. Probably off canoodling with the Preacher." Jayne put the little boy on the counter. "Didn't tell me he'd filled his diaper with -"

"Jayne."

"Poopy," Bethany said, going onto tiptoe to see what the big man was doing.

"Um, Jayne, I don't think you should be doing that over there. That's where we make dinner. And breakfast," Hank said quickly as the mercenary unhooked Ethan's stretchy pants and pulled them down.

"Wasn't intending to change him here. Just checking to see … woo-hoo!" He took a step backward as an indescribable odour wafted up to his nostrils.

"Thanks, Jayne." Hank held his nose. "I probably won't eat for a week now."

"Won't do you no harm. Lose a couple of pounds."

"I'll have you know Zoe likes my love handles. Ain't that right?" He turned to the woman in question.

"Jayne, do that baby back up now. And see if River has the bag." Zoe glared at him.

"You know, I'd hate to see you as a mother," Jayne said quickly. "Be telling the poor kid what to do all the time. Wouldn't know if he was coming or going."

He didn't see the blood drain from Zoe's normally dark face. "Get him out of here," she said softly.

"I'm going, I'm going." He picked Ethan up, holding him at arm's length. "How can such a small kid make such a hell of a lot of …" He glanced down at Bethany. "… poopy?" he finished, heading towards the door, almost colliding with Jethro.

"Um, I hate to ask … but has anyone seen River?"

Jayne scowled. "You lost her already?"

"No, it's just … we were supposed to be going out to dinner, only she's not in her room. I thought she was with Inara, but the shuttle's empty too."

Mal stepped down into the galley. "Well, folks, we're back. And what's that smell?"

"Your son," Jayne said, handing him over. "Needs changing."

"I reckon he does." Mal's face screwed up. "What the hell're we feeding him on?" he asked Freya, who ignored him.

"There's diapers in the nursery," she said. "Or River's got the bag."

"Jethro says he can't find her," Zoe said slowly.

"Isn't it your big night out?" Mal asked, winking at Jethro, who blushed.

"She told me Inara was going to help her get ready, but the shuttle's empty."

"So you said," Hank added. "Perhaps they went shopping."

"No, I mean empty. Most of her stuff's gone."

Mal stood up a little straighter. "What do you mean, gone?"

"Gone. Not there. It's almost bare."

Zoe looked at her captain. "Have you been in there lately, sir?" she asked.

"No. Not for a while. Not since …" He stopped. "Here," he said to Jayne, handing Ethan back. "Look after my son." He strode out of the door towards shuttle one.

--

River had felt them leaving atmo some time back, and now peered out from behind the cargo. She knew they'd be angry with her, but she couldn't let Inara do this by herself. Not without telling everyone. She eased back into her hiding place. A little while longer, then she'd go and hunt for food. She smiled. This was quite an adventure.


	7. Chapter 7

Inara lifted the long dresses out of the case and sighed. Not so many as there once was, and unlikely to be replaced any time soon. This trip was costing a fair amount, and it was only due to the good graces of Captain Branscombe that she wasn't using all her money on the suite. But he was an old friend, and an ex-client, and he was letting her travel for the cheapest possible fare. She smiled. Maybe being a Companion hadn't been so bad.

Laying them on the bed Inara went to look out of the window. The stars looked the same as they had from Serenity, but there was a great deal of difference, not least of which was the lack of sound. There had always been a hum of life on board the Firefly, coming from the turning of the engine, even when they'd been sitting idly waiting for the next job, and somehow it felt wrong that there was nothing at all. Just silence.

She sighed again. No point in getting upset, not now. She'd made up her mind and taken the only path open to her. Still …

--

Mal opened the door to the shuttle and stepped inside. Jethro was right – the place looked bare. Or more bare than before. Inara had never replaced the odd hanging that had been damaged on Corvus, nor the cushions, but it had never looked … unlived in before.

"_Shen sheng de gao wan_," he said, feeling annoyance building as he stared around.

"Mal," Hank said, nodding towards the vidscreen. The light was flashing, indicating a message.

"Play it."

The screen flared into life and Inara's face appeared. _"Mal, I'm assuming it is you who are listening to this message. Particularly since you've never shown any regard for coming into my shuttle unasked."_ She smiled a little. _"I've come to a decision, and this is the only way I can do this without you trying to talk me out of it." _She took a deep breath. _"Ever since Sheydra told me my son was alive, I've been thinking about him. And I've decided I have to find him. No matter what it takes. In fact I have been employing an investigator who … well, I think I know where he is."_

Her head lifted a little in defiance. _"So I'm going to see. If he lied to me, then I'll carry on. Try other avenues. Only I can't ask you to be a part of it. Your family need you, you have to find work, and you're seeing that doctor … and I don't know how long I'll be gone. It's better this way. I've left one month's rent in the bronze vase by the door in lieu of notice. The rest of my possessions, anything valuable, I've sold to finance my search."_ She shook her head. _"Not that you need to – Mal, I have to find him. He's my son. Please understand. Surely you can, with Ethan …"_

She took a half step back from the screen. "_Captain, I hereby cancel my contract with you, and return your shuttle. If there's anything left behind of any use to you, please take it, otherwise …"_ She reached forward to turn off the recording but paused. _"Tell the crew I love them."_ Then the screen went black.

Mal stood for a moment, staring at nothing, while Zoe gave the shuttle a quick search. "She's right, sir. Everything she could reasonably sell's gone."

"Why'd she do that?" Hank asked, shaking his head. "She knows we'd help."

Mal roused himself. "Sometimes that woman makes me so mad ..."

"Only her?" Freya said from the doorway.

He gave her a stony look. "Rather than standing there making personal comments, do you have any idea where she might have gone?"

"I can't pick up on her, if that's what you mean."

"And River?"

Freya shrugged. "She's hiding from me. But that does tend to suggest she's gone with Inara. Otherwise why would she?"

"The women on this boat are gonna make me go grey," Mal said, striding out of the shuttle towards the bridge.

--

Inara stepped onto the liner's promenade and looked around. Large windows looked out into space, and comfortable chairs were in groups along the wall. She wasn't going to be on board that long, but there was no way she could stay in her room, no matter how luxurious it was.

"Would you care for a drink?" asked a servant, appearing at her elbow.

"No, thank you."

He vanished again without a sound.

Inara smiled. Some things never changed.

"I'm thirsty," said another voice, this one much more familiar.

Inara turned, and her jaw dropped. "River?"

The young psychic smiled. "I'd like a lemonade."

"River?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing here?" Inara tried to pull herself together.

"You need me."

"How …"

"Easy-peasy." She grinned.

"Miss?" The servant was back, a glass on a silver tray. He held it out.

"Thank you," River said, taking the lemonade and sipping it through the straw.

"You are welcome." He slipped away.

"You stowed away?"

"Of course." She looked into the glass. "This is nice. It tastes like I remember."

"You stowed away?"

River walked to the window and looked out. "Not as nice as Serenity's view."

"It's the same one." Inara shook her head. "This … you shouldn't be here."

"And you shouldn't be on your own."

"You do know I'm going to have to … oh, River."

"Don't you want me to be here?"

"What I want isn't the point." She leaned closer. "Does Simon know?" When the girl shook her head Inara sighed. "Of course he doesn't." She looked up and down the promenade. "We have to tell them … they must be worried sick."

"They've guessed."

Inara stared at her. "River, this is ..."

"They know we're together."

"But you're …" Inara saw Captain Branscombe enter the promenade at the other end. "Oh, _gos se_." She turned back to River. "You're my sister."

River looked at her with her big dark eyes, still sipping the lemonade. "That will be nice."

--

Hank looked up from the bridge Cortex screen. "I can't tell, Mal. She checked up on a lot of travel plans, but I can't figure out one specifically."

"Anyone she spoke to more'n once?"

"Several." His pilot sounded regretful. "But I can't –"

"_Shen jing bing_," Mal muttered.

"Her or me?"

"Her." Mal leaned on the back of the chair. "Anything that rings out of true?"

"Well, there is this." Hank brought up a screen of text.

"Where'd you get this?"

Hank had the good graces to look slightly ashamed. "I've been … keeping track of … um …"

"Good work," Mal said encouragingly, patting him on the shoulder. "Can you backtrack it? Find out where it came from?"

"I can try."

"Get onto it."

--

"Captain, I have a confession to make," Inara said.

Captain Branscombe smiled benevolently at her. "I find that hard to believe."

"I … have to report a stowaway."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "A stowaway?"

Inara turned to the girl at her side. "This is my sister. River. She … she came on board to say goodbye to me, but –"

"I got lost," the young woman said, looking down into her glass. "There's so many corridors …" She looked up and smiled softly. "Then I felt the ship take off, and I … I got scared." Her voice shook a little. "I've heard what happens to stowaways on some ships." She stepped closer to Inara.

"I see." Captain Branscombe looked at her, so vulnerable, so waif-like. He felt his heart melt. "Sisters, eh?" He smiled at Inara. "And does she follow in your footsteps?"

"As a Companion?" Inara laughed. "No. She's training to be a doctor."

"A doctor. That's good. We can always use more of them." He thought for a moment then signalled to one of the servants. "Ask Mr Kuo to join me a moment, please."

The servant bowed and vanished through a doorway.

"I'm so sorry about this," Inara said, putting her hand on his arm. "I had no idea she was still on board until she found me. I can, of course, pay her passage, at least until the first planetfall."

"It does happen," the Captain agreed, trying to maintain his dignity. "Of course, it shouldn't be able to, with all the sensors at the port, but …"

The Purser hurried out from the door. "Sir?"

"Add Miss Serra's sister to the list of passengers."

"Yes sir." If he was at all surprised he didn't show it. "And the cost of passage?"

Captain Branscombe gazed at Inara, as if he was reading the thoughts off the back of her head. "I think we can waive that. Such a little thing isn't going to each much, and she'll be staying with Inara in the Presidential Suite."

Inara smiled at him, all of her considerable skills warming him through. "Thank you," she said sincerely.

"Just allow me the pleasure of a dance this evening," he said, lifting her hand and bowing low over it.

--

Inara closed the door and turned to the girl. "What the _tyen shiao duh_ are you doing here?"

"Helping." River walked around the room, running her fingers over the expensive furnishings.

"Helping. How, exactly?" Inara was angry now. "This is nothing to do with you."

"You're going to find your son." River stopped and fixed her with a stern eye. "You should have told Mal. Face to face."

"He's in the middle of … and it's nothing to do with him either."

"He's your friend."

"He's got enough to worry about."

"And now he's worrying about you."

Inara glanced at her then dropped onto the sofa, exhaling noisily. "River, I have to do this."

"I understand. But you don't have to do it alone." River joined her, taking her hand. "It isn't safe."

Inara looked at her sharply. "Safe? How is it not safe?"

"I don't know yet."

"Sometimes …"

"I know," River said airily. "Everyone feels like that about me occasionally."

"Don't you care?"

The girl laughed. "It's much more fun to keep people guessing."

"But running off and not telling anyone …"

"Exactly."

Inara glared at her. "Did you tell them where I was going?" she asked, not wanting to admit she had done anything in the least bit foolish.

"No. That's up to you."

"And how did you –"

River put her head on one side. "You were very loud. And you promised to help me get ready for dinner with Jethro. And I don't have a dress to wear." She sighed. "He is not going to be pleased we've had to put this off another day."

"That's nothing to do with me!"

"No?"

"Oh, River." Inara sounded so exasperated that the young psychic smiled. "And don't look so happy about it. I can only imagine what your brother's going to say when he hears about this." She glanced towards the Cortex link and sighed loudly. "Well, I suppose I'd better let them know you're not floating around some moon somewhere."

"Captain Branscombe wouldn't have done that."

"No, but I might."

--

"… so it looks like River's with Inara," Mal finished, looking around at his crew. "Hank's trying to figure out where she's gone, then we'll get after them."

Simon rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to get rid of the headache that seemed to have settled permanently there. "My sister is going to be the death of me."

"Quite possibly," Mal agreed. "If'n you don't get to doing it yourself first."

The young doctor glared at him. "I'm cutting it back."

"I'm making sure of that, Cap'n," Kaylee put in.

"Good."

"Cutting what?" Jayne asked, his eyes narrowed as he looked from one to the other.

Mal ignored him. "I don't see Inara taking River by choice, so my guess is the girl picked up on what she was planning and decided to tag along."

"Why would she do that?" Jethro asked. "Without telling anyone?"

"After a while, you'll start to understand my sister doesn't see things quite the same way as the rest of us," Simon said tiredly, feeling Kaylee take his hand and squeeze it gently. "And sometimes I wish … I just wish I could let her get on with it."

"No, you don't," his wife said softly.

"Oh, believe me."

Jethro wouldn't let it drop. "But she's –"

"Safe," Freya said soothingly. "Which is a good thing." She looked back at Mal. "But it still doesn't explain why you want to cross half the galaxy to stop Inara doing something she's decided on. She made a choice. She wants to find her child by herself. You should respect that."

"And River?" Mal asked, glaring at her. "You think I should just leave her to follow blindly?"

"River's twenty-one - old enough to make her own decisions too."

"Now, I have to disagree on that," Simon put in. "Age doesn't really mean a thing when it comes to –"

"And Inara's a big girl too," Freya said over him.

"Are you jealous?" Mal asked, his eyes wide in surprise. "I thought you'd gotten over that."

Freya blushed. "I have. But you're chasing her like she's …" She clamped her lips tight, and looked away from him.

"Like what?" he asked softly.

"Sir, I have to agree with Freya," Zoe said unexpectedly. "Inara made a choice. We should honour that."

"She's a member of this crew," Mal explained, feeling as if he was being betrayed. "Don't that mean a thing to you people?"

"Of course it does," Kaylee said, not sure about the sudden atmosphere that had developed. "And of course we want to help. We all do. We're family."

Freya got awkwardly to her feet. "Yeah. Family." She swung her crutches under her arms and hobbled out.

"Did I just miss something?" Jayne asked.

"I'm not sure," Kaylee admitted. "Cap?"

Mal was standing perfectly still, his arms crossed, radiating anger. Then he looked up. "We'll find your sister," he said to Simon. "Get her home. Then we'll figure out what else to do." He turned and strode out of the galley.

Kaylee watched him go. "Zoe, I don't –"

The first mate shook her head. "Leave it for now," she advised. "Some things ain't meant for us."

Mal stomped down the stairs into the cargo bay, where Freya was sitting on Jayne's workout bench.

"You care to explain what that was all about?" he asked.

"I don't have to explain anything." She was staring down at her hands, at the bareness of her ring finger.

"Last time I looked I was still captain." He stopped next to her. "About time you obeyed a direct order."

"Fine," she said, looking up at him. "The _Captain_ wants to know? Okay." She struggled to stand. "Inara decided to go look for her son. On her own. For whatever reason. She's a grown woman. That tends to mean she can make her own decisions."

"She's crew."

"She loves you." Immediately she said the words she wanted to drag them back, but the amazed look on Mal's face was enough to make her skin burn again.

"Is that truly what this is about? You think I'm chasing her because I want her?"

"No, I … I didn't mean …" She sat down heavily again, jarring her back and having to swallow a moan. "I know you don't."

"Then what?" He went down onto his heels next to her, know the pain she was feeling was more than just physical.

"It was just … talking to Dr Yi … remembering all the things I've done, all the things I'm capable of …"

"You think that means I shouldn't love you?" He lifted her chin so he could look into her face. "You think it means I should want her instead?"

"She's …" Freya closed her eyes.

"No. You look at me," he demanded. He waited until she complied. "Now, Inara's my friend. And yours. But I am fed up to the back teeth with this jealousy of yours." He felt her stiffen but went on, "There's no grounds for it. I love you. I want you." He pointed towards their temporary home. "Our son is lying asleep in there right this minute, and I wouldn't want anyone else for his mother. _Dong mah_?"

"I know."

"But you don't believe it."

"I thought I did."

He sighed and sat next to her on the bench. "You know, this idea of going to see Dr Yi … it was kinda yours. I didn't want to. Didn't see the need to get all my neuroses out into the light of day. And now, even more, I think it maybe wasn't such a good idea. Particularly if this is how it's gonna take you."

"Yes it was. And Simon thought so too." Freya sniffed.

"That young man has enough troubles of his own at the moment, without going and putting more on other people. Kaylee's got him on such a short leash I'm surprised she's letting him out of their bunk." Mal put his arm around her. "Frey, honey, truth is I am royally pissed at Inara for walking out on you right now."

"On me?" Now it was her turn to be surprised.

"On you. When you need your family around you, help you get over the rest of this."

"Mal, I have you."

"And you ain't gonna be rid of me. But this … what Inara's doing ... she should be here, for you."

"I'd be doing the same, Mal. Hell, I did do the same." She laughed unexpectedly, pointing to the cargo bay door. "I walked out of here and into Wing's trap to find my son."

"Yeah, but –"

"But nothing." She leaned against him a little. "And it was my choice. Just like this is Inara's."

"You really think I'm going to just walk away and let her deal with this by herself?" His blue eyes gazed into her dark ones. "Even if I'm only chasing her to tear her off a strip?"

"I … suppose not," she conceded.

"Frey, I'd do it for any one of those people up there." He glanced towards the galley area.

"I know."

"Even Jayne."

"You let him leave."

"It was his choice."

"Exactly."

Mal sighed. "You are a most infuriatin' woman sometimes. And … yeah, okay, you got me on that one. But maybe it's because I don't think Inara's as capable of dealing with life out here in the black as easy as Jayne can."

"She was doing fine before you took her on board."

"Fine. You think she was doing fine. So it was fine that she lost the man she loved, that her baby was taken away from her, that –"

"All _right_." Freya's voice cut through his. "So I'm a fool. What else is new?" She hung her head, staring at her hands again.

"No, you ain't." Mal said softly. "You're Frey."

"I can't help it, Mal," she replied, shaking her head. "I know there's nothing between you. That there will never be, not on your side. And I love you all the more for it." She looked up into his face. "But you have to know that this green-eyed monster is going to raise its ugly head once in a while. It's part of me. A part I can't exactly control all the time."

"I know." He kissed the tip of her nose. "And I'm sorry for making such a fussing over it." He put his arms around her and hugged her close. "See, told you all this talking to other folks wasn't necessary. _We_ talk."

She sighed. "Yes, Mal."

"Is that, _yes, Mal, I understand and agree with every word you've just said_?"

"No."

"Then is it, _yes, Mal, you're the boss and what you say goes_?"

"No."

"Then I figure it's, _yes, Mal, but whatever you say I'm just gonna go ahead and do what I want anyway_?"

"Pretty much."

"Oh, what it is to be married."

"Give and take."

"Hmmn. Think we might have had this conversation someplace before." He sighed again, this time dragging it theatrically from the soles of his boots, and was gratified to see her smile. "So are we good?"

"I guess."

He shook his head and grinned at her. "I suppose that's the best I'm gonna get today."

"But you're not going to get out of going back to see Dr Yi," Freya said suddenly.

He jumped. "I don't recall ever saying –"

"Mal." Just one word.

"Am I gonna have to put you across my lap and spank you for looking into my mind?" he asked in exasperation.

"Mal." Jayne was calling from the top catwalk. "Hank says he's found somethin'."

"Found what?"

--

Hank grinned up at the captain as he stepped onto the bridge. "That message was sent by someone called Aaron Halliday. He's down in the Cortex as an investigator."

Mal nodded. "Inara said she'd employed someone."

"Well, his credentials are impressive, if nothing else."

"Wave him. See if he'll tell you what he told Inara."

"Already done."

Mal looked down at his pilot. "You're beginning to get a mite too efficient for my liking."

"I'll stop, if you like." Hank's grey eyes were sincere but didn't hide the streak of mischievousness.

"No, just … look, I kinda got an idea what you should be like, and if you go surprising me too often, I get somewhat apprehensive."

Hank laughed. "Can't have that. Tell you what, I'll surprise you only on days with an 'r' in."

"Fine." The com beeped. "Halliday already?"

"No," Hank said, checking. His head went up in surprise. "Mal, it's Inara." He got up quickly, letting his captain slide into his place. He brought up the transmission.

"Hello, Mal." Inara smiled at him, the image a little grainy.

"Well, well, if it isn't Miss Serra," Mal said, feeling unaccountably relieved but determined not to show it. "Long time no see."

"Don't be like that."

"Like what?" Mal raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't the one went gallivanting off into the black without a by your leave."

"I do not gallivant."

"What would you call it then?"

"Necessary."

"I ain't in the mood for playing word games."

"Neither am I. I just called to let you know River is with me."

"River?" Simon's voice came from the back of the bridge and he crossed to look into the viewer. "Is she all right?"

"She's fine," Inara assured him. "In fact she's enjoying herself." She glanced over to where the young woman was going through the contents of the desk.

"What did you think you were doing, taking her with you?" he asked, curtness entering his tone.

"I didn't, Simon. She stowed away all by herself."

"Now I can't believe –"

Mal put his hand up. "Much as you two having a slanging match would be fun to see, I'm a mite more interested in where she is. And you."

"We're on board a liner heading for Greenleaf. If you want to follow, you can pick up River there."

"And you're just going to drop her –" Simon was getting angrier by the moment.

"Which liner?" Mal interrupted.

"Does it matter?"

"Humour me."

"SS Marrakech."

"Okay. We'll meet you there."

"There's no need for –"

"I said, we'll meet you there." He killed the connection.

"Mal, I wanted to speak to River," Simon said somewhat petulantly.

"You will." Serenity's captain sighed. "Why can't things go smooth for a change?" he asked no-one in particular, then looked at Hank. "How quick?"

"Without emptying the fuel cells, three days."

"Okay. Then get us to leaving."

"What about your next appointment with that doctor?" Hank asked, already inputting the code.

Mal stood up and straightened his shoulders. "Some things are just more important," he said as he walked off the bridge, but there was just the suggestion of a smile on his lips.


	8. Chapter 8

Inara walked down the steps into the liner's ballroom, and for once didn't actually feel like the centre of attention. Oh, she was beautiful, she knew that, dressed in dark red velvet, long gloves to her elbows, but it was River, wearing one of her plainest gowns, her glossy dark hair swept up into a low roll at her neck, who had caught everyone's attention.

The dress, a deep gold, was cut on the bias and hung from thin straps, curving around her slight figure. However, it was the girl inside the dress, the lightest touch of lipstick all that adorned her face, that had all the men watching her, and all the women wondering who she was.

Captain Branscombe stood up from his seat, the other men at the table following, as the pair walked towards him. "My dears, you both look stunning."

"Thank you," Inara said, inclining her head a little.

"Please, sit." He pulled out a chair for her, pushing it in as she sat down.

River, smiling, took the seat next to Inara.

"River, no," Inara breathed. "You wait until someone holds out your chair for you."

"Oh." She stood up again, and Captain Branscombe laughed.

"Please." He bowed a little as he did the same for her.

"River was allowed to run a little wild," Inara said. "And I wasn't around to make sure she learned some of the finer graces."

"I think your sister is refreshing," the captain said. "So much nicer than a lot of these old fuddy-duddies," he added in a whisper.

"I do hope you don't include me in that," Inara said, laughing gently.

"My dear, I would never call you a fuddy-duddy." He smiled into his beard. "Now, can I help you to some wine?"

River watched, her eyes wide, as Inara played the table. It wasn't obvious, even if you were looking, but the older woman knew exactly how to make people feel at ease, as if she was speaking only to them. It was so subtle, just a look or a gesture, and each man felt she was smiling for him, and each woman believed she could be a friend.

It was like magic. Inara was weaving a spell that encompassed everyone around her, and River was taking in every moment. She made it look so effortless, and yet it had taken years of training, of observing, of being taught how to recognise when someone was in the least bit uncomfortable, and being able to rectify it.

And not one moment of it was because she read that person's mind, just their body language, the way they spoke …

As she sipped her wine, River smiled. As much as she was sad she'd missed Jethro's romantic gesture, this was something she never thought she'd see first hand. A Companion, even if not in name, at work. And it was wonderful.

--

"You okay?" Hank asked, pouring himself a coffee.

"Fine," Zoe said, staring at the inventory in front of her.

"Do you want one?" He lifted the pot.

"No thanks."

"What're you doing?" Hank came and sat down opposite her.

"What does it look like?"

"Counting towels."

"Just making sure we don't need anything."

"And if we did?"

"Just like to keep on top of things." She hadn't looked at him.

"You okay?"

"I said I'm fine."

"Only, from my long and varied experience of women, I'd have to say something was troubling you."

"I'm working!" she snapped at him, finally glaring at him.

He sat back. "Oh. Okay." He sounded surprised.

"Hank, just let me get on with this." She looked back to her list.

He took a mouthful of coffee. "Zoe, we ain't gonna be anywhere you can resupply for a few days, so why don't you tell me what's wrong?" He leaned forward again, reaching out to her. "You were going to earlier, before Jayne interrupted us. "Honey, whatever it is, you can tell me." He swallowed. "Are you sick?"

"No." She closed her eyes and sighed. "Ain't sick."

"Then what is it?"

She forced herself to look at him and smile. "I just want to get this done. Then we can go to bed."

He brightened a little, but there was still concern in his eyes. "All for that, but –"

"Don't you have something to do on the bridge?"

"Still waiting for that Halliday to get back to me," he admitted. "But the autopilot –"

"Give me an hour. Okay?" She put her hand on his. "An hour."

"Then you'll tell me what the problem is?"

"Hank, there's no problem."

Hank gazed into her dark eyes. "Whatever you say." He stood up. "An hour. Or I'm coming to find you." He smiled for her, but it wasn't his usual wide grin. Strolling, apparently nonchalantly, across the galley and up the steps, he glanced back at her. She was still sitting, her head down, staring at the inventory. _Whatever it is,_ he thought to himself, trying to take a page out of Freya's book and reaching out with his mind, _I'll be there for you._

Zoe waited until she heard him climb the bridge stairs, then sat back, rubbing her hands across her face and through her hair. Why did this have to get so complicated? Why couldn't life be smooth for a change? Why couldn't things just carry on as they had been, without …

She stood up quickly, her chair squealing on the floor, and strode out in the opposite direction.

Simon was finishing up in the infirmary when Zoe stepped inside.

"I'm going to bed," he said quickly before she could speak. "No need for Kaylee to send out the big guns to make me."

"Am I a big gun?" Zoe asked, momentarily distracted.

"Well, you carry one."

"Not right now."

"Well, no." He looked into her face. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I think I need you to do something for me."

--

The waiter put the silver salver down in front of the young psychic.

"Me?" River breathed. "All for me?"

Inara nodded, looking down at the cards spread out on the tray, each bearing a man's name. "They all want to dance with you."

"Why?" She turned her big dark eyes on her friend.

"Because you're quite lovely." Inara heard the catch in her own voice.

"Unspoiled?" River asked, picking the word from her brain.

"Yes," the ex-Companion agreed. "Something I never was."

River grinned, and was suddenly the girl Inara knew and loved. "This is silly," she said.

"It is." Inara picked up the cards, making a small pile of them. "But you've made something of an impact on them."

"Except this isn't me." River indicated the dress. "_This_ … isn't me." She lowered her voice to barely a whisper. "How could _this_ kill a room full of Reavers?"

Inara put her hand on River's. "You can be both. And so much more. Look at Freya. Wife, mother, lover … yet she was a soldier, a leader of men."

"A killer."

"That too."

"But never a murderer," she added on a breath. "And _you_'re more."

"Me?" Inara was honestly startled.

"You think of yourself as a Companion. And now that's been removed, you think you're nothing."

Inara stared. "No, I –"

"It's there. At the front of your thoughts all the time. The question. If you're not a Companion, what are you? That's why you want to find your son. Because at least then you'd be a mother." River's dark eyes seemed to look into her soul. "But you're more than a Companion. You always were. And it isn't by others that we are defined. But by ourselves."

"River, I … I've never been anything else."

"You're my friend. Mal's. Freya's. Zoe's. All of us on board Serenity. You've been our confidante, our conscience, our pain and our survival. You're Inara."

"I don't know if that's enough."

"He won't come for you. Not for that."

Inara felt the heat in her cheeks. "I know."

"And you think your son might fill the void."

"I don't know." She shook her head slowly. "But he _is_ my son."

The orchestra played a chord, long, high and drawn out, making the crystals in the chandelier tinkle.

"What do I do?" River said suddenly, her high spirits back with her youth. She tapped the cards. "Tell me."

Inara smiled. "Decide you who want to dance with. Then put the cards into the holder." She pointed to the gilt frame the servant had placed behind River. All the ladies in the room had one. "The lucky men will put the matching card next to it, and whisk you onto the floor."

"It sounds so formal."

"It is."

"Good." River's fingers danced through the cards, dividing and selecting. "Can I dance with them all?"

"If you want." Inara laughed. "The orchestra plays until there's no-one left."

A slow smile spread across her face. "Then I will." She jumped to her feet and proceeded to place each card in the frame.

"Your feet will hurt by the end of the evening," Inara warned.

"I don't care," River said as the first of the young men walked across the floor towards her, lifting her dress just enough to show she was barefoot. "If this is the only chance I'll get, I'm taking it." She turned, smiling, and stepped into the man's arms.

Inara grinned, watching her being whisked away to the centre of the dancers.

--

Jethro swung the weighted bar back into its cradle and sat up.

"She'll be okay," Jayne said from the catwalk above.

"I know," he said, picking up his towel to wipe his face. "Inara's a woman of the world."

"I weren't talkin' about her. And you know it." The big man walked slowly down the stairs. "River."

Jethro glared at him. "How … how could she do that?" he asked, the words spilling out of his mouth. "Just go off like that? Without a word to anyone?"

"And you'd'a let her go if she'd talked to you first?"

"Of course not!"

"Then I figure that's why she didn't." Jayne crossed the cargo bay. "River … well, this is her family. 'N' if one 'ppears like they're in trouble, she don't look on it as interfering. Just being family."

"I know, but –"

"Ain't no buts, Jethro. You gonna be with her, you gotta accept that." The big mercenary picked up one of the weights, lazily doing arm curls. "From what little she's told anyone, her family – her _real_ family – didn't even look for her when she was hurtin'. Simon did that, got her out, risked his own life to save hers. Boy did good." He looked at the young man. "But don't you go tellin' him I said that."

"Would he believe me?"

Jayne laughed. "Nope. Don't reckon he would. But the point is she's more at home here than anywhere she's ever been. And we're … they're the family she never had."

"You too."

"Maybe."

"I'm worried about her."

Jayne sighed. "I don't think there's a one on board who ain't."

"So if I stay, she's going to be doing this a lot?"

"Worrying ya? Jethro, all the whores'd go to church before she stopped."

Jethro blushed a little. "You have a … colourful way with words."

Jayne slapped him on the shoulder. "You'll get used to it."

"I think I'm going to have to."

"So, you gonna put some proper weights on that thing? Or you as panty-waisted as the doc, and pussyfoot around pretending?"

"I do not pussyfoot."

"Good." Jayne picked up two heavy metal discs. "Let's see what you're made of."

Jethro shuddered a little. If he had to lift that sort of weight, Jayne would soon know what he was made of, because he'd be throwing it up all over the floor. "A little lighter?" he asked.

Jayne laughed. "That's it. Don't let people walk all over you." He exchanged the weights for slightly smaller ones. "We'll build up to those."

--

Mal closed the door to their temporary home. "Ethan's asleep," he said, smiling. "You know, I'm thinking we should get a capture of him and Bethie like that. While they're all sweet and peaceful."

"Mmn."

He glanced at her as he slipped the suspenders from his shoulders. "Might be worth it, just to drag out when he brings his first girlfriend home. Explain he'd already been sleeping around, from a very early age."

"Mmn."

Mal sighed. "We going to have one of those conversations?" he asked, watching Freya as she sat on the bed, her feet drawn up in front of her. She was contemplating him thoughtfully.

"Maybe for a minute or two."

"Can I get undressed while you lecture me?"

"Sure. And I wasn't planning on lecturing."

"No?" He undid his shirt. "Kinda thought that was the intent."

"Dr Yi."

"Ah." He sat down next to her.

"I know you don't want to go back."

"Told you what I'd do if you went scampering around in my brain," he joked. "You ain't that big I can't spank you."

"Don't try and change the subject."

"Frey, honey, I … no, you're right. I don't want to go back. It's too …" He stopped. He couldn't say it was too painful, which it was, because she'd just say that was a good enough reason to keep going. Instead he said, "I feel better. Got a lot of things out into the open. I don't need to go back."

She looked at him, her dark eyes clear and honest. "I'm not the only one with bad dreams."

"I don't have –"

"Mal, you've been through so much. Losing the war, your home, your men, Alice … me …"

He quickly put his arm around her, squeezing her close. "I didn't lose you."

"Nearly. So very nearly. And not just this time either. Mal, this isn't the first time I've wondered if you'd be better off without me."

He was so stunned he couldn't speak for a moment. "Are you –"

"No." She shook her head. "Not that. But maybe you'd be better with someone like Inara. At least she doesn't put herself in harm's way all the time."

"It wasn't your fault."

"No. But if I stay, maybe next time it will be."

"Are you … are you really thinking about leaving me?" He was almost numb with shock.

She gazed into his blue eyes. "No."

He breathed again. "Then –"

"But it's something else I need to speak to Dr Yi about. And you have to go see her again too."

"When we've found Inara and River, we'll come back to Ariel. I know you need to … but I feel like I've done my talking."

"No. What about your bad dreams?"

"I can live with them."

"I'm not sure I can."

He stared. "Frey … don't. Please don't."

"I don't want you breaking down, Mal," Freya said quietly, her eyes not leaving her husband's face. "You call out their names sometimes, when you're asleep. Bendis. Walker. Lu Fong."

Mal licked dry lips. "Soldiers. Good men."

"And none of them survived Serenity Valley."

"Frey –"

"And sometimes you talk about meeting the _real me_." He'd told her about Niska. About the torture. When she stroked the scar around his ear. "If I could kill him for you, I would."

"I know." He gave a shaky smile. "See, that's the difference between us. You survived. I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"No, Frey. I died. I wasn't strong enough to stay alive, and I died. The fact that he brought me back ain't the issue. I gave in. And you didn't."

"Mal, there's only so much guilt a man can carry."

"What if there ain't anything left? If I give up the guilt, and there's nothing left behind?"

She took his hand, placing it to her lips. Her eyes wet, she kissed his palm, closing his fingers over it. "Mal, I love you. You, not all the guilt. The man inside. The man who makes me feel human. Keeps the darkness away."

He laughed, just a little. "We're a pair, ain't we?"

"Deserve each other."

"God, I hope so." He leaned in and kissed her deeply.

--

"When did you know?"

"I … began wondering a couple of days ago. Thought I'd wait, see what happened."

"And nothing did."

"No."

"Well, you're about five weeks, as far as I can tell."

"Time to decide, then."

"Time? Why, wouldn't you want to –"

"I haven't decided anything yet, doctor. But it gives me a breathing space."

"Are you going to tell Hank tonight?"

"I'm not sure I'm going to tell Hank at all."

"Zoe –"

"Just don't … this is my problem."

"Zoe, a baby isn't a problem. Unless you can't have them."

"Simon, please."

"Of course I won't. You're my patient. But you're also my friend, and as that I am telling you to talk to Hank."

"Thanks, Simon."

"You didn't answer me."

"Goodnight."

"Zoe …"

She hurried out of the infirmary, feeling his eyes on her back. This was her decision to make, no-one else's. And she had no idea what she was going to do next.


	9. Chapter 9

Hank was giving a good impression of being asleep, even snoring once or twice for verisimilitude. But his back was tense, his shoulders tight.

Zoe closed the hatch and gazed at him. She'd just spent nearly two hours sitting in Inara's shuttle, trying to make up her mind, and she still hadn't come to any conclusion. She desperately wanted to speak to her friend, to hash it out with someone who wasn't going to judge her, but suddenly there was no-one available. Even Freya was pretty much out of the question, with all the things she was having to deal with herself.

She sat down at the table, her back to the bed.

Maybe Jethro might be the person. Only she knew what his answer would be. A child. Bringing a baby into the world, or not. He'd probably say it was a mortal sin. Well, she'd committed a fair few of those in her time, considering one of the few Commandments she had ever remembered was _Thou shalt not kill_. Broken that one more than once. Although maybe this was just another example.

It wasn't like they hadn't talked about it. Hank wanted kids. Wanted them very badly. And most of all, wanted them very badly with _her_. He loved her. Considered it was the next step, a fair extension of that love.

And all she was doing was trying to decide whether to kill that child before he had a chance to meet him.

She wanted children. Had wanted them with Wash so badly that she'd stopped taking the contraception, letting nature take its course. Made a unilateral decision. Only he'd died before nature had kicked in.

She picked up one of the dinosaurs, turning it over in the light.

He'd have made a great father. Played with them, got into scrapes with them, probably made every excuse under the sun so she wouldn't get mad with them. And they'd never have stopped at one. There'd have been a whole tribe running around Serenity, getting into trouble, having Mal shout at them to stop making so much noise, only his would be running with them …

She swallowed back the lump in her throat.

Could've got to the point where there wasn't enough room on board for everyone. Growing kids, four fertile women producing more at every juncture, maybe five if Inara got into the act …

Sighing, she put the dinosaur back into place. That didn't seem to be likely no more. What with Simon having problems, Freya in the condition she was, and now Inara leaving … suddenly the boat seemed kinda empty, even with little Bethany and Ethan.

"You okay?" Hank said behind her, stepping close, his naked body touching, making her shiver.

"Shiny."

"Only I figure you're lying to me. Have been for some time." He moved around so he could see her face, going down onto his heels next to her. "Why should that be the case?" He moved the heavy lock of hair from her shoulder, smoothing it away.

"Hank …"

"Whatever it is, you can tell me. Please." His eyes were imploring. There was fear there too.

"I … Hank, I'm …" She couldn't finish.

"Zoe, if you're sick, then we'll do whatever it takes. If I have to mutiny and take over the ship, I will." He took her hand, and she could feel his was trembling a little. "Whatever it is."

"I'm not sick," she assured him, and saw a little of the fear leave his face.

"Then what?"

She gazed at him, his earnest grey eyes searching hers, trying to see what the problem was, his hair sticking up in every direction as usual. She used to think he was too like Wash, and while there were similarities, he had his own personality, his own love for her. Where Wash would have been out making the same trouble as their children, Hank would be looking out for them, understanding but setting the rules, the guidelines to make sure they never … Of course.

"Hank, I'm pregnant."

His expression didn't change. "Are you playing with me?" he asked.

"No."

He sat down heavily on the decking. "Oh God." He covered his face with his hands.

"Hank?" She knelt next to him. "Hank?"

Tears were dripping off his chin onto his chest. "God," he repeated.

"Hank, please." She pulled at his wrists but he resisted. "Please."

He lowered his hands, such an expression in his eyes that her heart froze. "Pregnant," he whispered.

"Yes." She swallowed. "I thought that's what you wanted."

"Only you've been deciding whether to tell me or not, haven't you?" he asked, his insight piercing her to her soul. "Whether to … to terminate the pregnancy without …"

She sat down next to him. "Yes," she admitted.

"Zoe …" The anguish in his voice was almost palpable.

"It's my body, Hank. My choice. Always and ever, my choice."

"I know, but …" He wiped his face and sat up a little, trying to pull himself together. "What did you choose?"

"Why?"

"Because I'll … I'll be there whatever you …" He couldn't go on, the tears falling again.

"I've _told_ you."

"Yeah, and I'm waiting for …" Her words sank in, and he scooted round to look at her. "You mean …"

"Whatever happens, it will be _our_ decision."

"Zo, I want hundreds of children with you." He wanted to reach out, hold her, tell her he'd take care of her …

"I know."

"Do you … don't you want this one?" he asked, glancing down to her belly.

"I don't know." It was so hard to admit it, but she had to. "I don't know. I don't think I'm ready, Hank."

"Do you think any of the women on board this boat were ready to become mothers?" he asked, a slight smile creasing his lips.

"What if Kaylee can't -"

"No." He sat forward, taking her hands in his. "No. If that happens, well, then it's a shame. But that's no reason for us not to …" His face began to light up. "Zoe, you're pregnant."

"I know."

"But … you're pregnant!"

"I haven't decided whether to keep it or not," she said softly, only now, this time, she knew she was lying.

"Then I'll persuade you. I'll …" He looked around the room. "I'll become a tidier person. Work out more. I'll even …" His glance fell on his book collection. "I'll even get rid of my library."

She laughed. She couldn't help it. "You'd do that for me?"

"It's be hard, but … yes." His face took on a determined air. "Whatever it takes."

"It's still early. About five weeks."

"Can I wrap you up in cottonwool?"

"No."

"Oh. How about –"

"I'm pregnant, Hank. Not broken."

He clambered to his knees, looking down at her. "Marry me?" he asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because we don't need to. And it's too soon."

"Mal married Freya."

"So?"

"And Simon got wed to Kaylee."

"After the fact."

"I want to marry you."

"One day. Perhaps," she added quickly. "I haven't gotten used to being a mother yet."

"Mother …" Hank looked like he might faint.

"You're not to tell anyone," she said firmly.

"Why not?" He sat back down.

"Just for a while. Until all this is over."

"You mean Inara and River?"

"Mmn."

He bit his lip. "Okay. But only until then." The grin reappeared. "You know Freya'll probably be able to tell, her abilities coming back 'n' all."

"But that doesn't mean we have to confirm it."

"No. All right." Hank suddenly jumped to his feet. "You shouldn't be sitting on the cold floor. Not in your condition." He leaned over and took her hands, lifting her up. "Gotta take care of yourself." He looked down at her waist. "Not just you no more."

She smiled. Finally. "I don't think it's been just me for some time."

--

Inara lay in her bed, her arms above her head, and thought. River was in the other bedroom, finally asleep, having danced so much she could hardly walk. Still, she had such a good time, and it made Inara smile to see it. She'd had so much pain in her comparatively short life, so it was right and fitting that she should be able to have some fun once in a while.

She closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn't come.

It didn't feel right. This wasn't her shuttle, and the smell was different. She'd tried burning some incense, but the air purifiers must have been too efficient, because the scent didn't stay.

She rolled over, hugging the pillow.

This wasn't home, but … There were so many reasons for doing this, for making sure that …

Her mind went to the Firefly, to when she had spoken to Sheydra, when she'd asked why. Why she'd done what she had.

"_Best let me take that in to her," Zoe had said. "Somehow I doubt you're one of her best friends at the moment."_

"_I've come to the conclusion that no-one can be her friend. But I still want to speak to her."_

"_Why?"_

"_I need to know why she betrayed us to Xavier Wing."_

_Zoe gazed at her, then nodded. "Okay. But I'm staying outside the door."_

"_I wouldn't want it any other way," Inara said fervently._

_Zoe unlocked the door. "Did you ever meet him?" she asked. "Xavier Wing?"_

"_Once. Atherton introduced us at a party. He was charming, gracious, attentive … and I didn't like him."_

"_Perhaps you're a little psychic yourself."_

"_Maybe," Inara agreed, surprising her. "I've often wondered if the best Companions have to be." She sighed. "To be all things to all people."_

"_So you weren't surprised when River said she was a latent?"_

"_Not particularly. But what River did … what Mal let her do …"_

_Zoe stopped, turning to face her. "Did you think he had a choice?"_

"_I don't know. If I'd talked to her, tried to persuade her, reasoned -"_

"_This isn't the time for reason. What they did to Freya isn't reasonable."_

Zoe had been right. Sheydra thought of Inara as the enemy now, responsible for what had happened to her. And worse.

"_You talk to me about betrayal?" Sheydra stood in the middle of the locker, her hands on her hips, glaring. "You've betrayed everything you ever held dear!"_

"_The Guild? You're using the Guild as an excuse?" Inara couldn't believe it._

"_We're Companions, Inara. What's the first rule they teach us? Don't judge. Every day it's pounded into our heads. Don't judge. Well, I didn't."_

"_You knew what Wing was going to do! That he intended to take revenge on Mal!"_

"_Revenge?" Sheydra scoffed. "Don't be so melodramatic. Besides, your captain killed his son."_

"_In self-defence."_

"_Anyway, I don't know why you're so worked up over this," the woman said, drawing herself up. "I saved you, didn't I?"_

"_What?" Inara was dumbfounded._

"_You were at the House when they came. Otherwise you might have been hurt too."_

"_You actually think I should be grateful?"_

_Sheydra shrugged. "That's up to you."_

_Inara could hardly breathe for the anger inside her. "You're really trying to justify this."_

"_I don't need to." She patted her hair back into place. "Xavier is a powerful man. He's asked me to be his permanent Companion, and when I get back I'll be powerful too."_

"_That's all you care about, isn't it?"_

"_Don't tell me you've ever hated the influence we have. The ability to drop a word in the right ear here or there, to change the course of events, to make suggestions that could alter history. Some of the men you've bedded are as strong as Xavier. Are you saying you've never used that capacity to make them do what you want?"_

"_I was a Companion. I helped them, healed them, brought them something no-one else could, not -."_

"_You are so naïve, Inara," Sheydra said, interrupting. "The Guild is well rid of you; you'd never have done what –" She stopped._

_Inara couldn't believe her ears. "Are you … are you saying the Guild knows about this?"_

_Sheydra lifted her head in defiance. "What if I am? Oh, not the specifics, but they know Xavier wanted your captain to suffer. And they won't stop it."_

"_Why?" Inara cried. "How could they let it happen?"_

"_Because Xavier has a power they can use." Sheydra stepped closer. "Do you think they're going to sit back and see all this potential go to waste? When we can turn events our way?"_

"_You're insane."_

"_Really?" She smiled unpleasantly. "And if I hadn't done this, you wouldn't know your son was still alive."_

Inara felt someone shaking her. She looked up into large, dark eyes. "River, what is it?"

"We have guests."

"What?"

"Come with me." She moved away from the bed, her robe tied tightly around her waist.

"What are you talking about?" Inara asked, sitting up.

"I have to protect you." She went to the door, looking out into the corridor. "Come _on_."

--

"Sir, we have a ship requesting aid."

Captain Branscombe rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "What kind of aid?" he asked into the com.

"They've lost life-support and need assistance."

"Did you scan them?"

"Their life-support _is_ down."

"Fine. Tell them to lock on - I'll meet them by the main airlock." He closed the com and sighed. No rest for the wicked.

--

"Something's wrong."

"Wh … what?" Mal struggled awake. "Is it Ethan?"

Freya was leaning over him. "River and Inara."

"Why? What is it?" His blue eyes cleared.

"I don't know. Just something. She's not very clear." Freya shook her head. "But I think they need our help."

Mal swung his legs out of the bed and crossed the room in one stride, thumbing the com. "Hank."

There was a moment's pause. "Mal? Do you know what time –"

"How far away is the Marrakech?"

"What?"

"Marrakech. How far is she?"

"Um, well, we've been catching her up, so … couple hours."

"Get to the bridge and floor it. They've got troubles."


	10. Chapter 10

Captain Branscombe heard the airlock door open, and he turned. "What the …"

"Just be calm, play nice, and no-one's going to get hurt," said the man in front, his gun not wavering.

"What do you want?"

"One of your passengers."

The Captain shook his head. "No. No-one is being taken off my ship."

"Really." The man smiled. "I don't think you've got that much of a choice." He jerked his head, and five of his men hurried past, each heavily armed. They disappeared out of the door.

"Where are they going?"

"To stop your men doing anything foolish."

"We're a liner. We don't have armed guards."

The man laughed. "Then maybe you should."

The officer behind Captain Branscombe made a move towards the weapons locker and the sound of the gun firing was loud in that confined space. The officer cried out, clutching his shoulder. Branscombe went to move forward, but the man in front of him moved his gun back smoothly.

"I told you to play nice."

"Who do you want?" Branscombe asked, trying to ignore the moans of pain behind him.

"No-one of any consequence. A woman. Her name's Inara Serra."

Branscombe couldn't stop the look of surprise crossing his face, and the man smiled.

--

"River, wait." Inara tugged on the young woman's arm. "Where are we going?"

"You have to hide. They've come for you." River's eyes darted up and down the corridor.

"Who?"

"Men. To stop you."

"Stop me from what? River, tell me!"

"I don't know." The girl fixed her eyes on Inara. "I don't know yet. There's no coherence, no facts to be laid out end to end … but I have to hide you. Come on."

"That doesn't make sense."

River's head went up, as if she was scenting the air. "They've hurt someone. Please, hurry."

Inara allowed herself to be dragged along.

--

The leader of the invading crew stepped into the ballroom. "This is pleasant," he said, looking around. "This will do nicely."

"Do? For what?" Branscombe asked.

"Call everyone here."

"Do you have any idea what the shipboard time is?" Branscombe scoffed, trying to hide his fear. "Everyone will be in bed, asleep."

"Then they won't make trouble." The man sighed. "Call them. Or I'll send my men to get them. And they won't be anywhere near as polite." He lifted a hand towards the four men with him.

"No. No, I'll call." The older man stepped reluctantly up to the com. He pressed a series of buttons and his voice filled the ship.

--

"_This is the Captain. All passengers and crew to report to the ballroom. This is not a drill. All passengers and crew report to the ballroom immediately."_

Inara looked up. "What's going on?"

"They're trying to find you." River opened a door. "In here."

"It's a supply closet." Inside were racks of towels and bed linen.

"And you'll be safe here until Serenity comes."

"They're coming?" There was a tinge of hope in her voice.

"They'll be here soon. But you have to hide until then." She pushed the other woman inside. "I'll lock it from the outside, but barricade it with something, and don't come out until one of us tells you."

"You're not coming in?"

"I have to keep them occupied." She smiled quickly, closing the door and turning the key. Removing it from the lock she placed it carefully on top of the frame, then hurried back down the corridor.

Inara, standing alone in the darkness, began to tremble.

--

"Sir." One of the marauders handed over a list. "The passengers."

"Good." The leader ran a hand down the names. "Presidential Suite, no less," he said, appreciatively. "Only the best." His eyebrows went up. "And she has her sister with her."

"They're just two women travelling," Branscombe insisted, watching as people began to file into the ballroom, seeing the fear on their faces as they realised they were being confronted by heavily armed med. "What could they possibly have done to make this necessary?"

"You think I'm going to tell you?" the man asked, handing the list back to his associate. "Go to the Suite. Persuade them to join us."

"Sir."

The man looked back at Branscombe. "I'm not paid to tell you about things like that. Just to get the job done."

"And that job is?"

"Well, now, I'm sure you'd rather not know." He patted Branscombe on the arm.

"You're going to kill her?" He was appalled.

"None of your affair either." The comunit in his pocket buzzed. "Yes?"

"The suite's empty, sir," came a disembodied voice.

"Then she's probably on her way. Good. Get back here." He put the unit away, and strode across to the orchestra dais. He cleared his throat and everyone turned to him. "My name is immaterial," he said, looking out over the assembly. "But for ease you can call me Mr Jones." He smiled. "I'm not going to hurt you. Not unless you make any kind of undue fussing, but you will help me. I am looking for Inara Serra. If one of you good people wouldn't mind pointing her out to me, I'll take her off your hands and you can be on your merry." His voice lowered a little. "Of course, if you don't help me here, things could get a little … messy."

There was mutterings, and people glancing at each other.

"Come now. It's so easy," Jones went on. "Just point her out."

"She's not here," said one of the crew.

"Mr Kuo!" Branscombe was outraged. "You are not to help these … men."

The Purser shook his head. "You heard what he said. If we help them they'll leave."

"Keep quiet!" Branscombe thundered. "That is an order!"

Jones looked from one to the other. "Not here?"

"No," the Purser confirmed.

"How can you be sure?"

"You can't miss her. Long dark hair, a poise, and quite breathtaking."

"Breathtaking." Jones nodded. "Apt phrase." He drew his gun and fired, the bullet hitting the Purser between the eyes. The man was dead before he hit the floor as people screamed.

"_Wuh de tyen, ah_," Branscombe breathed.

"So Miss Serra isn't amongst us." Jones looked around. "What about her sister? River Serra."

There was silence, broken only by sobbing from some of the women.

"Very well." Jones stepped up to the com, activating the shipwide broadcast. "Inara and River Serra. If you don't join me in the ballroom within the next … oh, two minutes, I will be forced to shoot another of the passengers or crew. And then another two minutes after that. Then another. I am quite happy to leave this ship a tomb. Think on that."

--

Inara pulled at the door handle, but it wouldn't budge. She got down onto her knees, looking through the keyhole, but she could see there was no key. No way of pushing it through then …"_Cao_!"

--

"Mal, I'm picking up the liner," Hank said.

"How far?"

"Ten minutes." The pilot lifted his eyes. "There's someone locked onto her."

"Can you tell who?" Mal buckled his gunbelt about his hips.

"It's a Delko. Newish."

"Can we get close enough to board?"

Hank shook his head. "If I get much closer it'll set off all sorts of alarms."

"Can't you scramble them?"

"From here, yeah. But …"

"Do it. We'll take the shuttle in. Dock at the rear entry."

"Okay."

Mal looked up at Zoe. "Best get the troops prepared."

"I think they are already, sir," his first mate said, leading the way off the bridge.

--

Jones regarded the large pocket watch. "Funny how time seems to fly, doesn't it?" he said conversationally. "And yet sometimes it drags, when you're waiting for something good to happen." He put the watch away. "Two minutes," he said, drawing his weapon. "Any volunteers?"

"I'm here," River said, pushing through the crowd. "What do you want?"

Branscombe groaned. "No."

Jones regarded the slight figure. "Inara?"

"Her sister. River."

Jones grinned. "Well, at least now we're getting somewhere." He reholstered his gun. "Where is she?"

River shrugged. "She got off. She wasn't having any fun so she left."

"Left. You expect me to believe that."

"I don't actually care what you believe."

Jones looked at her, almost impressed. "No. I don't think you do."

--

Mal was impressed. Jayne had enough weaponry about his person to take over a small moon, Jethro was almost as well armed, and even Simon had a double bandoleer across his chest, a shotgun in his hands.

"This a good idea, doc?" the captain asked from the catwalk. "With you not being up to par 'n' all?"

"She's my sister, Mal. If we don't get her back, how am I going to ground her?"

Mal smiled slightly, then looked down. "No," he said firmly. "You ain't coming."

Freya was standing on the bay floor, her gun on her hip, the crutches under her armpits. "I am. I'll stay in the shuttle, but I'm coming."

"What about –

"I'll look after the kids, Cap'n," Kaylee said, standing next to her husband. "You go bring the others back."

Hank stepped out of the door behind him. "We're putting out enough static to cover us, least if they're not looking out of the window." He took the belt Zoe held out to him and buckled it on. "Time to go," he said softly.

"That it is." Mal nodded and headed towards shuttle two.

--

River let one of the armed men take her by the arm, leading her towards Jones. "What do you want with my sister?" she asked, feeling the fingers bruise her skin, knowing she could break that hand if she wanted.

"That's between her and my employers." Jones smiled. "This _wangu chunren _of a captain asked me the same thing. Do you think I'd tell a little thing like you what I didn't tell him?"

She put her head on one side. "You don't know. Just following orders."

He smiled. "And if I am?"

"It means I don't have to worry about not killing you."

"Not …" He laughed, his handsome face creasing up. "That almost makes it worth not hurting you."

"Almost?"

"Oh, yes. Only almost." He nodded to the man holding her, who leered and stripped the robe from her back, leaving her standing naked. "Definitely only almost."


	11. Chapter 11

The shuttle locked on and Hank immediately powered her down. In a moment Mal had the door open, gingerly peering around the corner, but there was no-one in sight.

"Mal," Freya murmured. "I think everyone's in the ballroom."

"River and Inara with them?"

She shook her head. "I can't tell."

"Well, makes it easier. If we come across anyone, they're probably bad guys."

"'Specially if they're shooting at us," Hank put in, wiping his hands together then down his pants.

"Yeah, that does kinda take the guesswork out of things." Mal looked at his crew. "Jethro, you roam with Jayne. Zoe –"

"Aw, Mal, why does he have to come with me?" the big man asked.

"Because I said so." Mal glared at him. "Zoe, Simon, with me. Hank, you stay here with Frey."

"Mal?" His pilot stared at him.

"Frey's staying put, and so are you."

"But –"

"And I don't have time to argue." Mal eased his way out into the other ship. "Come on."

--

Jones ran his fingers down River's face. "It would be such a pity to destroy such beauty. But I will if I have to." His hand continued down her chest, but stopped as he felt her gaze on him. "Yes, well." He stepped back, going to the com. "But I don't really have the time to enjoy myself."

--

Inara listened as the voice, almost like Mal's in timbre, sounded over the ship's system.

"_Miss Serra. I have your sister. And a pretty little thing she is too. Even with the goosebumps."_

No. Not like Mal's. There was ice under the banter, a heart frozen with no remorse.

"_Course, she won't stay that way unless you come out."_

"God, no!" Inara screamed, tugging on the door.

"_So many things I could do, and not a one of 'em fatal. Not yet."_

"I'm here!" she shouted, banging on the wood, trying to break it with her bare hands.

"_You have five minutes to get to the ballroom, as I'm feeling generous, and you might be hiding."_ He laughed and shut the com down.

--

"River?" Simon said. "Does he mean –"

"I reckon he does," Mal agreed, slowing as he approached the crosswalk.

"Then we have to –"

"Doc, we are. Now keep quiet." Mal signalled to Zoe to take the other side of the corridor, while he counted down. As he reached one he dropped to a crouch and looked around the corner. A shotgun blast nearly took his head off, and he felt splinters ricochet off his coat.

Zoe's mare's leg came on its heels, almost one sound, and the man at the end was driven back against the wall, sliding down to the expensive carpet, his chest a bloody mess.

"Thanks," Mal breathed.

"You're welcome, sir."

They moved on past, Simon swallowing back the bile as he looked at the dead man. Not the first he'd seen, particularly as a doctor, and probably not the last, but it always made him feel a little sick. Only this time it added to the nausea that was tearing his guts up from the treatments, and it was just too much. He leaned over and lost what little had been in his stomach.

"You okay, doc?" Mal asked, glancing back at him.

"I'm fine," he said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Then don't be dawdling."

--

"Jayne!" Jethro said urgently.

"What?"

"Shouldn't we go help River?"

"Mal's on his way there." Jayne glanced over his shoulder. "Sides, she ain't in no danger."

"But he just said –"

Jayne sighed. "Preacher, you ain't exactly thinking with your brain, are you? This is River we're talking about. You know? The Reaver-slaughtering machine?"

"But she's alone."

"She was then, too."

"I still think –"

"No. We've got a job to do, and we're gonna do it."

"Which is?"

"Get to Inara and get her off this pile of _gos se_."

"But we don't know where –"

Jayne stopped in his tracks, and Jethro nearly ran into him.

"What?" asked the younger man, trying to see around the mercenary.

"Inara's in a cupboard. Level five."

"What?"

Jayne turned to glare at him. "I said Inara's in a cupboard. Level five."

"No, I heard. But how do you know?"

"River told me." Jayne moved off again, surprisingly silently for such a big man.

"She … when?"

"Just now."

"She _spoke_ to you?"

"Didn't you hear her?" Jayne peered around the corner then headed towards the stairs.

"I didn't hear a thing."

Jayne grinned. "See, that kinda makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside."

--

"Sir, Grogan's reported shots from the lower decks."

"Who's down there?" Jones asked, not taking his eyes off the naked young woman in front of him. She didn't seem at all concerned with her predicament, and that fascinated him.

"Hannay."

"Tell him to check it out, although he was probably just being trigger happy." Jones smiled. "Unless he found Miss Serra."

"Sir." The gunman headed off.

River shook her head. "No."

Jones raised an eyebrow. "No what?"

"It wasn't Inara." The girl looked him up and down.

"What?"

"I was just wondering whether to render you limb from limb, or just disembowel you."

Jones laughed, but there was something in her gaze, in her way of speaking that made his skin crawl. "I don't think you'll be getting the chance, sweetheart."

"I'm not your sweetheart."

"Mr Jones," Captain Branscombe could take it no longer. "She's just a girl. Please, at least let her dress."

"I'm shiny, Captain," River said, turning to look at him. She smiled softly. "I find it quite liberating. I often wander the corridors of my ship at night naked. It makes me feel at one with her."

"But my dear –"

"It's all right," she assured him. "It will be all right."

--

Freya was on the small bridge, checking that Serenity was still pumping out static. If the Delko, docked at the far end of the Marrakech, realised another ship was dogging them, things could turn nasty in a moment.

"Frey …" Hank's worried voice filtered back to her.

"What?"

"I think … I think I saw movement."

Freya struggled to her feet, grabbing her crutches and trying to move through the cluttered cabin as fast as she could as Hank shouted, "Frey!"

Three gunshots crashed into the wall above her head, and as she sidestepped one of the crutches slipped on the decking and she went down, slamming her knee on the corner of the bench as she fell.

Hank, having ducked back inside the door, could only watch as she tried to get up, but her knee wouldn't hold her. And then there were footsteps outside. He tried to calm his wildly beating heart, half deafened by the gunblast, and gripped the suddenly slick butt of his gun. He took a deep breath and moved into the doorway.

A man. His age. Same build. Same height. Same brown hair. Dark eyes, though, not grey like his own. And raising the gun he held, ready to fire.

Hank tried to pull the trigger. He wanted to, was telling his brain to send the signals to his finger, to pull the gorram trigger. But all he could see was a man falling against a dirty wooden wall, the smell of blood fighting with the smell of urine as it pumped from his body, feeling the gun he'd already used to send the man who'd hurt Freya into one of the deepest reaches of hell …

Freya fired, two shots sounding like one, lying on the deck.

The gunman took a step back then fell, an almost surprised look on his face.

Hank stared at him.

Freya rolled onto her back, letting her hands fall above her. "_Cao ni zuxian shi ba dai_," she breathed.

The pilot turned in surprise. "Who, me?"

"Only if you don't help me up."

Glancing back at the dead man again, Hank slid his unfired gun back into its holster and crossed the shuttle. He got his arms under Freya's and helped her to sit on the bench.

She probed her knee, feeling blood under her fingers. Quite a lot of blood.

"You okay?" he asked, going to the emergency aid box and removing a pack.

"Another pair of pants," she muttered. "Gonna end up naked before long."

Hank couldn't help it. He let out a laugh. "I doubt Mal would mind."

"The rest of you might," Freya said, smiling a little. She grabbed the pack from him and tore it open, sliding it inside the tear to cover the wound. "And I don't think Simon's going to be very pleased that I've undone some of his good work." She winced as the seal took hold.

"I'm sorry," Hank said. "I couldn't. I don't know why but I … I couldn't fire."

She looked up at him. "It happens."

"I just … all I could see was that man I killed before. And I couldn't fire."

"I know." She sighed. "Hank, you're not a killer. And I'm pretty sure Zoe's pleased about that."

"Zoe …" Hank glanced out of the door.

"She'll be careful. Especially now."

Hank stared back at her.

--

"Sir, I can't raise Hannay. And now Miller isn't answering either."

Jones glared at him, then turned to Branscombe. "Who is it?" he asked, his eyes full of wrath.

"Who?" the captain asked, bewildered.

"Your crewman. The one who's making a nuisance of himself."

"But they're all here," Branscombe insisted.

"Then who …" Jones stopped. "I don't have the time to play games," he muttered, sliding a knife from the sheath at his waist. "Time to end this." He took hold of River's arm and dragged her to the com.

"It's nearly over."

"For you, yes." Jones hit the button to send his voice throughout the ship.

"No, for you," River smiled.

"I've run out of patience. Inara Serra, if you're not in this ballroom in the next thirty seconds, your sister is going to be giving up the last of her blood onto the floor. _Dong mah_?" He pulled River into his arms, turning her so the knife was at her throat.

"Let her go," Branscombe said, stepping forwards, regardless of his own safety. "She's a child!"

Jones pressed the knife point a little harder into River's skin, drawing a single drop of blood that ran quickly down the blade. "And I have finished waiting!"

River smiled, and Branscombe felt a thrill like ice water run down his spine.

--

Mal's comlink buzzed. Quickly freeing it from his pocket he whispered, "Yeah?"

Freya's voice sounded quietly. "Mal, Jayne's nearly got to Inara. Level five."

He smiled a little. "Good work. River tell you that?"

"Yes. She also said to hurry before she does something she won't regret."

"Like what?"

"Do we really want to find out?" Freya asked.

"Not really. We're almost at the ballroom."

--

Jayne nodded towards a door. "That's it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." He reached up to the frame, running his large calloused fingers along it, then grinned as a small key fell into his palm. "Told ya." He unlocked the door.

"Jayne?" Inara cried from inside, throwing her arms around him.

"You okay?" he asked, looking her up and down. "Not hurt, are ya?"

Inara glanced at the bruises on her hands from where she'd been beating the door but shook her head. "No, no. But River –"

"Cap's taking care of that," Jayne assured her. "Come on. Best get you home." He put his arm around her and stepped out into the corridor.

"Jayne!" Jethro shouted, pushing him back, falling into the room himself even as a shot rang out.

-

River screamed.

-

"Oh, dear God," Freya breathed, staring at Hank, her face going white.

-

Mal ran into the ballroom, fearing the worst.

Jones looked startled, his ears ringing from the noise she was making, and it gave her more than enough time. She slipped under his arm like oiled water, pulling the knife from his hand and slitting his throat in one smooth movement. Blood spattered across her skin but she ignored it as he fell to the floor, thrashing as his life spread out beneath him.

His men, although shocked, were hard enough to know trouble when they saw it, and all raised their guns to kill this _sao bi_. But they were too late. Half a lifetime too late.

Mal could do nothing but watch in fascinated horror as she took those men apart. Literally. Within the space of a heartbeat the raiders were dead, body parts and viscera spread around.

River stood still, blood running down her skin, none of it hers. "Jethro," she murmured, then collapsed to the ground.

Mal ran up, taking off his coat to cover her, but Branscombe was there first. He laid his jacket over her, not caring about the blood. Mal went down onto his knees, lifting her up. "Zoe. Fifth level. Find out what she meant."

Zoe nodded and ran out as he laid the psychic on one of the tables.

Simon checked his sister's vitals. "She's not hurt," he whispered, his own heart thudding against his ribs.

"No."

"What she did …" He was trying to be professional, objective, but ... "Why?"

Mal didn't answer, just looked bleakly at the young doctor.

--

Jayne was sitting on the deck, his back against the wall, Jethro in his lap. "I don't get it," he said quietly as Zoe ran up. "Why'd he do that?"

"What happened?" Serenity's first mate asked, looking from the big mercenary to Inara.

"There was a … a gunman," Inara managed to say, her arms wrapped about herself. "We didn't see him." She pointed towards a body lying half in an open doorway a dozen metres up the corridor.

"_I_ didn't see him," Jayne corrected her.

"He … fired at us."

"He saved my life." Jayne was staring down at the young man lying so still in his arms. "Why'd he do that? I ain't worth the saving."

Zoe went down onto her knees, and pressed her fingers against Jethro's neck. There was nothing. Just flesh.

"Jayne," she said, her voice low. "We have to get him back."

"Ain't no good," he said, finally looking up at her. "Nothing anyone can do. I know that. Killed too many men to be fooling myself now. Killed _him._" He nodded towards the dead gunman. "Too late." He dropped his head, such confusion across his features. "I just don't understand."

"Jayne." She put her hand on his shoulder.

"How'm I gonna tell her?" he said softly. "How do I say what he did?"

"She knows." Zoe swallowed. "Jayne, she knows."

He raised his eyes. "Yeah. Guess maybe she does." He somehow got to his feet, Jethro in his arms.

"Let me –"

"No." He shook his head. "Ain't your fault." He walked down the corridor.

"Zoe …" Inara was trembling.

"Come on." She put her arm around the other woman's shoulders and they walked slowly in the big man's wake, Jethro's blood staining his shirt.

--

Branscombe had overcome his initial shock, and his natural leadership had taken over. He ordered some of his crew to begin taking the passengers back to their rooms, and the rest to gather up some of the arms from the dead men and make sure there was no-one else on board who shouldn't be.

"Careful you don't shoot any of mine," Mal said, tugging cloths from the tables and covering over the bodies. He'd experienced worse horrors during the war, when the only recognisable bits were maybe a hand, all raggedy ended. Then you could only wait to see who didn't come back and make a note to write another letter of condolence. It never got any easier.

"Mal," Simon said behind him.

He turned.

"_Wuh de mah_."

Jayne stood in the doorway, Jethro in his arms.

"He's dead, Mal," the mercenary said.

"Yeah."

"I killed him."

"Jayne –"

"Sure as if I'd pulled the trigger myself."

Mal looked at the big man. "Take him back to the shuttle."

"Yeah." Jayne glanced at River lying so quiet on the table. "She okay?"

"Take him back."

Jayne nodded and walked out of the door, passing Zoe and Inara without a word.

"'Nara?" Mal asked, moving across the ballroom to her.

"Why did you have to come for me?" she asked, her voice shaking with anger. "If you'd left things alone this wouldn't have happened!" She struck out, her hand connecting with his cheek so hard the sound rang through the room. Then she turned and ran.

Mal watched her go, her handprint burning brightly on his skin, not touching it.

"I'll watch her, sir," Zoe said softly.

Mal nodded and his first mate slipped away.

Branscombe stepped up behind him. "She's angry."

"She's right." He looked across at the young woman still unconscious on the table. "Can you clear this mess up?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it." Branscombe went to put a consoling hand on the other man's arm, but pulled back at the last moment. "I'm sorry. For the loss of your man."

"Yeah. Me too." Mal didn't look at him, just strode to the table and gathered River into his arms. Her weight seemed nothing as he walked out of the room, Simon at his side.


	12. Chapter 12

"Anything in the logs?" Mal asked, stepping onto the bridge of the Delko.

"Not that I can see." Hank shook his head in frustration. "If there is anything it's probably in that maniac's personal logs, but that's pretty much encrypted. Kaylee's gonna have a look when she's finished, but … Mal, maybe there ain't nothing to find."

"Someone sent those _wang ba dahns_ to take Inara, 'n' if we don't find out who, they're gonna try again."

"Even after what River did?"

"Only difference'll be that they blow us out of the sky instead of asking politely for her first."

"Talking of that …" Hank tapped a console array. "This ship's loaded. If she'd wanted she could've taken out the liner, no problem. Hell, she's got enough guns to take on half the Alliance."

"Another reason for us to find out who hired them."

"Then perhaps Simon could take a look at the encryption?" Hank suggested. "I mean, he's pretty smart … or River, maybe."

"She's not woken up yet."

"Does the doc know why?"

"Shock. Maybe." Mal shrugged. "Where River's concerned … her brain don't exactly run on the same frequency as the rest of us." He breathed out heavily. "See what you can do. And chase Halliday, see if he has any information we can use."

"Will do." Hank bit his lip. "Mal, there's something …"

"To do with this?" Mal asked, turning back.

"No, but –"

"Will it keep?"

He nodded. "Sure. Sure."

"I'll be on the Marrakech."

Hank watched his captain leave the Delko before turning back to the console. Sometimes he was sincerely glad he was just the pilot, and seeing Mal walking with the weight of the 'verse on his shoulders made it one of those times.

--

Kaylee couldn't stop crying as she drained the fuel from the marauder. They'd burned almost all of theirs to get to the Marrakech, and Mal had told her to salvage what she could use. It felt like she was picking the flesh off the dead.

"Honey, don't," Simon said, coming up behind her and putting his arms around her.

She turned in his embrace and buried her face in his chest. "Why'd that have to happen?" she moaned, sobs wracking her body.

"I don't know."

"I mean, him and River … they should be together now, happy after … not …"

"I don't know why these things happen." He held her tightly.

"Is she … is she okay?" She moved her head enough so she could look into his face.

"She's still out. It's as if her brain has closed down."

"And you ain't with her?" Kaylee was shocked.

"Zoe's sitting in the infirmary. And you needed me."

"Oh, Simon." Her sorrow overflowed and she wrapped her arms around him, never wanting to let go.

--

"The Alliance are coming," Branscombe said, standing close to Mal as they looked out at the raiders' ship from the bridge. "They're on their way already. And there's not a chance in hell of us being able to hush this up."

"But you don't know who we are," Serenity's captain said pointedly.

"I'll try and keep you out of it. I think most of the passengers are more concerned with getting home than making statements, but she … you killed them all."

"Captain, I doubt they were going to leave witnesses," Mal said slowly. "From what I can gather, their ship carried some mighty high ordnance artillery. Not standard on a Delko. I think you were meant to hand over Inara, then they were going to blow you out of the sky. They probably only wanted proof they had her."

Branscome nodded. "I wondered that myself. When they didn't care if we saw their faces. They must have known they were being recorded." He smiled a little. "Which, I can assure you, has strangely wiped itself."

"Thanks."

"Most of the witnesses aren't even going to be able to remember. The mind has a way of blotting out what they saw, what she did …" He shuddered at old memories, then glanced at Mal. "How did she … she's only a girl. How could she do that?"

"River is … complicated."

Branscombe almost laughed. "I think that must be the understatement of a lifetime."

"Things have happened to her, trauma …" Mal shook his head. "Things I ain't gonna go into with you, but … she probably saved your life."

"Oh, I'm not doubting that for an instant," Branscombe said emphatically, then sighed. "Although I suppose … I've seen things before that … it's a big 'verse."

"That it is." They were silent for a moment then, "You fought in the war?" Mal asked.

"I did," Branscombe admitted. "An Alliance cruiser." He nodded. "You?"

"Other side."

The older man smiled a little. "Somehow I'm not all that surprised." There was a longer pause while both men remembered. "Where will you go now?"

Mal stuck his thumbs in his gunbelt. "Greenleaf still. Inara has business there, and … well, best to keep things normal. We'll be gone, though, by the time you dock."

"Is she going to be okay?"

Mal understood he wasn't talking about the ex-companion. "I don't know."

"She's strong. Walking into that room, knowing what might happen …"

"It doesn't stop the pain, though."

"No." Branscombe looked at the tall man in front of him, and realised he knew a lot about pain. "It doesn't, does it?" He put out his hand. "Thank you."

Mal shook it. "Just try and keep us out of it."

"Oh, I'm planning on being the big hero," Branscombe smiled.

"Could always do with a few more of them."

--

Serenity released her clamps and moved away from the Marrakech, Hank blank-faced as he cut the engines in.

In her shuttle, Inara sat on the sofa, staring at the bare walls, her hand aching from where she had hit Mal, and her heart doing pretty much the same for having taken it out on him.

Jayne stood outside the infirmary, staring inside, watching River lying so still on the medbed, Simon and Zoe in attendance.

In the lower crew quarters, Freya stared at her son, watching him sleep, before turning and hobbling into the cargo bay, ignoring the burning in her knee.

Mal looked into the engine room. "That stuff ain't gonna blow us up, is it?"

Kaylee shook her head, managing to find a small smile from somewhere. "No, Cap'n. If anything, it's better'n Serenity usually gets."

"Kaylee, if I could afford to get the best –"

"Ain't saying that. Just that she's running a mite sweeter'n before."

"Well, just keep her that way. I'd rather we got to Greenleaf in one piece." He turned to go but her voice called him back.

"Cap? What're we gonna do with … with Jethro?"

He sighed and looked round at her. "Not rightly sure, _mei-mei_. Figure I really gotta ask River, but since she ain't woken up yet …" He shrugged. "I wondered about taking him back to Bathgate."

"No," Kaylee said, sniffing back her tears. "He wasn't happy there. And they'd probably not take him, knowing what …"

"Then his home."

"_This_ was his home. Leastways for the past few months. Not the place he was born."

"I did think … maybe Prometheus," Mal suggested diffidently. "After Greenleaf it's but a short hop."

"I think River'd like that."

"You think?"

"Yeah." The young mechanic rubbed her nose, leaving a grease stain behind. "And I think Freya'll approve too."

"You don't think she might … with Alice 'n' all …"

Kaylee shook her head firmly. "No. Keep her company."

"I wish –"

She put her hand on his. "We all feel like that."

"Yeah. Guess you're right." He put his head back and stared into Serenity's engine. "How do I get through this?" he asked, very quietly, almost to himself. "More death."

"Weren't your fault, Cap'n." Kaylee squeezed. "No-one's fault. These things just happen."

"You always look to the bright side, _xiao mei-mei_, but this time there ain't one."

"And nothing a one of us says is gonna make that much difference, is it?"

He looked down at her. "Not a bit."

"Then we carry on. Like we always do. Like we always have." She rubbed his arm, then realised she'd left more grease on his shirt. "Oh, sorry," she said, reaching for a rag, but only coming up with one even dirtier than her hands.

"Uh, no, thanks," Mal said, a smile twitching his lips a little. "Not sure Freya'd approve of me coming home perfumed like a catalyzer."

"They don't have no odour," Kaylee said, wiping her hands.

"You don't know Frey's sense of smell."

She smiled at him, immensely grateful that he was trying his best to make her happier. "You'd best get back to being captain," she said, shooing him out of the engine room. "I got things to see to."

"'N' I gotta go talk to Inara."

Kaylee's face fell. "She didn't mean it."

"Yes she did. And I don't have the words to make it right." He turned from her and headed towards the shuttle.

--

Mal climbed the steps towards the catwalk, each and every one of them paining him. Why was it so difficult to keep his crew safe? Apart from the odd bullet or knife wound – an occupational hazard in their line of work – he'd kept them alive for the best part of four years, since Wash and Book were taken. Only now another one was gone. And in the last eighteen months Kaylee'd nearly died in childbirth, Simon and River almost driven out of their minds, Hank shot, Inara poisoned, and Freya … he swallowed. Now Jethro.

As he reached the walkway he sighed. When he'd said to Frey that there'd be nothing left if he gave up the guilt, he hadn't been joking. And now he'd topped up that guilt even more. Somehow, the thought occurred to him, the next few minutes probably weren't going to help.

He stopped outside the shuttle, and leaned on the wall for a moment. He seriously wished –

Voices. Inside. Raised voices. And they were both ones he knew all too well.

"I told him not to!" Inara glared at the woman in front of her.

"You made it seem like an adventure!" Freya was angry, trying to rein it in. "What the _diyu_ else did you think he'd do? If you'd sat down, explained, even said you wanted to do this for yourself, you know you could have made him see sense eventually. But no, you run away in the middle of the night, leaving that stupid message, and you really expect any of us to believe you didn't know he was going to follow?"

"It wasn't the night."

"Don't damn well split hairs with me!"

"You're just jealous."

"Of course I am!" Freya's voice rang from the shuttle's roof. "You tweak your perfectly manicured finger and he comes running! Every single gorram time!"

"I didn't!"

"Then why did you do it?"

Inara stood solid, her hands on her hips. "I – did – nothing!"

"You knew what he'd do!" Freya was trembling with rage. "So don't you go blaming Mal for what's happened!"

He wanted to stop this, to go in and shout at the pair of them, to stop being such _yuh bun duh_ children, but he couldn't find the strength to do anything more than listen.

"Blaming …" Inara scoffed. "And if I did I wasn't the only one. I don't see you telling him what you were planning to do before racing off into the jaws of hell, leaving him behind, knowing what was likely to happen." She wanted to bite back the words as soon as she'd said them, but she didn't get the chance.

Freya's face went white with shock. "_Chur ni duh_!"

"Really?" Inara crossed the small distance between them and took hold of that face, staring into a pair of astonished brown eyes before kissing her. Lips to lips. Then stood back.

"What the –"

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Inara taunted. "Protesting too much about Mal, I thought perhaps you were jealous for another reason."

"You …" She swallowed. "You think I … that I want you to …" Freya couldn't finish the sentence, appalled.

Inara stared at her, horrified at what she'd just done, then collapsed back onto the sofa, her head in her hands, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Inara …"

There was a tentative knocking. "Can I come in?" Mal said from the doorway.

"Mal, go away," Freya said, feel the knot of rage in her chest beginning to unravel at the sight of Inara in such obvious pain.

He stepped over the threshold and took in the scene. "Ain't gonna do that," he said quietly. "As captain I figure I got the right to be where I want. And since Inara here cancelled her contract with me, this shuttle's back to being mine."

"Mal …" Freya turned her eyes on him. "Please. This isn't …" She stumbled to a halt.

"Isn't about me?" He half-smiled. "Sounds like it is."

"I'm sorry, Mal," Inara said, lifting her head, tears shining on her cheeks. "I didn't mean to … it's all my fault."

"How do'ya figure that?" he asked, wanting to sit down next to her, take her hands in his and dry the tears, but he stayed standing. "You didn't kill him."

"Freya's right. I shouldn't have run. I should have spoken to you, told you what I wanted to do."

"Yes, you should," he agreed. "And I'm kinda curious to know why you didn't."

Freya watched them both, her eyes darting between them.

"I need …" She hiccupped slightly. "I need to find out who I am, Mal."

"You're Inara." Mal glanced at Freya, noting the tightness of her jaw.

"That's not enough." She wiped her cheeks on the back of her hands, unconsciously rubbing sooty streaks of black from her lashes into her skin.

"Be enough for most folks."

"I used to define who I was by being a Companion. More than half my life has been spent in the Guild. And I chose to give it up. But I had no idea what it meant."

"And what's that?"

"Losing my identity."

"How do you figure that?"

"Oh, Mal. Don't try and pretend you don't know. That day at Serenity Valley, you lost your identity, who you really were, and it's taken you years to find it again."

"Thought I'd lost my soul."

"Maybe that too. But I thought, if I could find my son, by myself, using my money, my … my skills, maybe I could be someone again." She wiped at a fresh tear. "Only I didn't want anyone to die!"

Mal finally sat down, close but not touching. "Seems to me this all began with Atherton Wing. Or maybe it was the day he was born. Hell, why not take it further and say it was the day his father was born. Or maybe it was the day we crawled out of the water and breathed air for the first time back on Earth-that-was." He realised Freya was nodding, and, encouraged, he went on. "Could go back further, to when the 'verse came into being in that mighty explosion, but I think you get my drift." He shook his head slightly. "'Nara, Book used to try and tell me all things were connected. That what we do has consequences. Well, I think I've come to believe that more in the last few months. And the only person who can take the blame for this … is me. I'm captain. Buck kinda stops here."

"But –"

"No buts. I got me a boat load of people feeling guilty. 'N' Kaylee's right – there's not a word that anyone can say's gonna change that. But I ain't having you two fighting, and sure as hell not over me."

"We weren't –"

"I heard, 'Nara." He sighed, looking up at Freya. "And you … you weren't wrong when you said the green-eyed monster'd make an appearance every now and again."

"Mal –"

"Don't go trying to deny it."

"Mal, you laugh at me and I'll shoot you where you sit," Freya said, her voice hard and low.

"I wouldn't. Ain't in that kind of mood. But you have to see I'd'a followed any of my crew if they'd done something as _fong luh_ as this. _Any _of them."

"Mal –"

"I mean, if you two are gonna come to blows, at least let me get the others. I can sell tickets."

Freya glared at him, then seemed to slump a little between the crutches. "I'm … sorry."

"Yeah, well, there's a lot of that going around." He felt the tension evaporate, even as he was aware he'd probably only put this off a while. "I can't be having with all this right now. Nor at any other time. Got a little girl in the infirmary who's gonna be bad enough when she wakes up, without you two at each other's throats." He looked at Inara. "Look, why don't you make us some of that tea you keep going on about? I could do with something calming."

She nodded. "Yes, of course. Captain Branscombe had my things brought over, and I'm sure I can find the teapot somewhere." She stood up.

"Good." He leaned back. "Now, you gonna sit down before you fall down?" he said to Freya.

Inara, about to walk past the other woman, glanced into her face, and saw a light sheen of sweat across her features. She looked down. "Oh, Mal, I don't think she can." She pointed.

Mal stared. The right knee of Freya's pants was dark, too dark for the surrounding fabric, and it glistened wetly. "_Gou niang yang duh_," he breathed, off the sofa in a moment and putting his arms around her, taking her weight. "What the hell happened?"

Freya let him help her to sit down, her leg straight out in front of her. "I fell."

"When?"

"In the shuttle. Someone shot at us and … I slipped."

"Were you gonna tell me you were hurt?" Mal asked angrily, tearing the hole in her pants leg wider so he could see the bloodstained emergency pad.

"Mal, I don't have that many pairs left," she complained.

"I will buy you another pair," Mal said, gritting his teeth at the blood running down her leg. "Two pairs. Ten. Hell, I'll buy you the whole damn store." He shook his head in frustration. "Woman, you are …" Even with his extensive and inventive knowledge of Chinese cursing, he couldn't come up with the right words.

"Shall I get Simon?" Inara asked.

"No. Best I get her down to the infirmary." He lifted her up and swung her into his arms.

"Mal, I can walk," Freya protested.

"I know," he said, looking into her eyes as she put her hands behind his neck. "Just let me do this for you, _dong mah_?"

She gazed into his blue orbs then nodded. "But if you fall down the stairs and break both our necks, I will not be pleased."

He smiled a little through his concern. "I'll try not to." He carried her out of the shuttle.

Inara followed, a short distance behind, watching him talking softly to her as he negotiated the metal staircase. If she were honest, there was pain in her heart, seeing them together like this, but she knew it was right. Even more, she knew, with all of that heart, that no-one would ever come between them, not until the day they were laid to rest in the same grave. And she knew this time she'd do it right.


	13. Chapter 13

"What the _tyen shiao duh_ have you two been doing?" Simon asked, his jaw dropping at the sight of Mal carrying his wife through the door, Inara hovering in the background. Zoe stood up from the stool next to River.

"Ain't me, doc," Mal said, sitting her down on the counter. "Frey managed to fall over all by her lonesome, and neglected to tell anyone."

"It's nothing," Freya insisted, then hissed as her knee bent.

"Nothing. Right." Mal stepped back so the young man could take a look.

"And I wasn't on my own. Hank was there."

"And he didn't say?" Mal's lips thinned. "Him and me are due a little chat."

"We need to get those pants off you," Simon said, peering as best he could through the tear in the fabric.

"Um, I'm … not exactly wearing anything underneath," Freya admitted.

"You want me to leave?" Zoe asked, trying not to smile.

"How come?" Mal demanded to know. "You got enough of those nether-thingies to last you a lifetime."

"Maybe not as long as that. And I haven't exactly been able to do any laundry for a while," Freya said, slightly shamefaced.

"Why didn't you say?"

"It wasn't … I mean, there were other things going on."

He glared at her. "And you couldn't ask one of the other women on board to lend you some?"

"Mal, you don't do that!" his wife said, almost shocked.

"Why not?"

"Would you ask Simon if you could borrow a pair of his?" Freya glanced at the young man, who just stared stoically back at her.

Mal opened then closed his mouth. "Well, okay. Point taken. But all it means is you're just gonna have to be embarrassed." He undid the buttons at the top of her pants.

Freya put her hands down to stop him. "Zoe …"

The first mate let the grin show. "I could do with a cup of coffee." She walked out of the infirmary, collecting Inara on the way.

"Since when were you shy?" Mal asked, his hands either side of Freya's thighs.

"Since I got the new scars." Her head went up defiantly, glaring into his blue eyes.

"Still you, though," he said, softer now.

"Mal …"

"And Simon's seen it all anyway." Then a thought occurred to him and a disgusted look crossed his face. "Gorramit, so's Jayne."

"You're not inviting him in to watch."

"Frey? Pants?" Simon prompted, his arms crossed.

"Yes, okay." She began to wriggle.

"Wait." Mal took hold of the material at her waist. "Okay, lift."

She raised her hips enough so he could slide the trousers down, pulling her boots off at the same time. She took a sharp breath as the fabric caught on the dressing.

"How long's this been on?" Simon asked, pulling gently at the seal.

"A … a while." She grabbed Mal's hand and squeezed. It hurt. A lot.

"You know this is only a temporary measure, don't you?" He glanced up into her face. "That's why it's called an emergency pad."

"Really." Her mouth was open, her body leaning back away from him as he removed it, and a half-congealed blood clot slid down her calf.

"Frey …" Mal was speechless.

Simon put one hand either side of her knee and manipulated the wound, eliciting a grunt from her. "I think it looks worse than it is. But I'd say the kneecap is refractured." He lifted her leg, swinging her round carefully so she was half lying on the counter. "I'm going to have to scan it."

"Frey, I'm warning you," Mal said severely, feeling her hand gripping so tightly that the blood supply wasn't getting through to his fingers. "If you even get a bruise, or … or a splinter, you damn well come and see Simon straight away."

"I wasn't the important one," Freya said, glancing at River.

"You are to me." She glared at him. "Okay, both of you."

"Thanks."

Mal gave her a slight smile, then looked back at Simon, who was connecting up his equipment. "How _is_ your sister?" he asked.

"The same."

"No sign of her waking up?"

"Not so far."

"She's hiding," Freya put in. "She doesn't want to have to come out."

The two men exchanged a glance. "You can read her?" the young doctor asked.

Freya nodded, then shrugged. "Her defences are low."

"Tell her … tell her we're here for her," he said, swallowing.

"I have. But I don't think she's listening."

--

"Since when was Freya shy?" Zoe asked as they headed into the galley.

"Since Wing did those things to her," Inara said. "She doesn't want anyone to see."

"But we helped Simon. We saw."

"She wasn't awake."

Zoe shook her head. "Coffee?"

"No thanks. I think it might keep me awake."

"You can sleep?"

"No." Inara sighed. "Oh, all right."

"Good." Zoe smiled and poured three mugs.

"You're that thirsty?"

"One's for Hank." She added sweetener to one. "So, did you two clear the air?"

"Clear –"

"'Nara, this boat ain't that big. And you were both shouting."

Inara coloured, just a little. "We … talked."

"That what you call it now."

The ex-companion shook her head and sat down. "She was right."

"About which bit? That you knew Mal'd follow, or that you wanted him to?" Zoe took the chair opposite.

"I didn't want him to," Inara insisted. "Honestly. I wanted … I needed to do this by myself. But I should have realised he wouldn't let it rest."

"So you tweaked your perfectly manicured finger and he came running?"

"Something like that." Inara sighed.

"And now you feel guilty."

Inara nodded. "Yes."

"Seems to be going the rounds. You seen Jayne's face lately?"

"Where is he?"

"Simon made him go back to his bunk. He was just standing and staring at River."

"Simon _made_ him?"

"That young man can be very persuasive when he wants to be."

"Mmn." Inara took a sudden interest in her mug. "He loves her very much."

They both knew she wasn't talking about Jayne and River.

"Yes."

Inara looked up. "Zoe, I have to …"

The first mate leaned forward, putting her dark hand on Inara's. "Your choice. But don't leave it too long to tell him."

Inara smiled slightly. "Nor you. It would be a good idea if you said something before you start to show."

It didn't happen that often, but Zoe was shocked. "How did –"

"I am … I _was_ a Companion. We're taught to read signs. Is it a secret?"

"At the moment."

"Does Hank know?"

"Of course!"

"There's no _of course_ about it. I know you, Zoe. You're one of the most independent women I've ever met."

"Are you making a really bad joke?"

"I wouldn't dare. I just can't help wondering if you weren't sure."

Zoe nodded slowly. "I wasn't. But Hank … we talked."

"Good. And congratulations."

"Thanks." She shook her head. "Doesn't stop the feeling guilty though, does it?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Still, I ain't gonna cry over it. Not like some folks."

"Cry?"

Zoe stood up. "You might want to look in a mirror," she said mildly, picking up two mugs and heading for the bridge.

--

Mal watched as Simon smoothed the plaster around Freya's knee.

"I should do your whole leg," he said sternly. "Keep you from doing any more damage. But I don't have the supplies." He wrapped it in gauze. "So this will have to do."

"Is it that bad?" Freya asked, feeling the cold seeping into her skin.

"It's on the same line as the other one. But it could have been worse."

Freya shuddered, remembering the pain as they'd smashed down with …

Mal squeezed her hand.

"But you're not going anywhere for a while. Not till this dries properly," Simon went on, oblivious.

"How long?" Mal looked at the young doctor.

"Thirty minutes."

"Well, that just about –"

The com buzzed.

"Mal? Would you mind?" Simon looked down at his white hands. "I'm rather busy here."

"You know, this is still my boat," the captain said, crossing the infirmary. "Yeah?"

"Mal, got that Halliday feller on the wave."

"Coming right up." Mal let go of the switch and looked at Freya. "You gonna be okay for a while?"

"I'll be fine," she said, smiling. "Just bring me a pair of pants when you come back."

"Okay."

--

"I don't usually reveal my sources," Halliday said, his face set.

"Mr Halliday, someone just tried to kill your client."

"Nothing to do with me."

"Don't recall saying it was." Mal leaned forward. "But they knew she was on her way to Greenleaf."

"Well …" Halliday pondered for a moment. Then, "Truth is, I wasn't getting anywhere either. Your friend hired me because she couldn't find anything out, and I was pretty well convinced I wasn't going to either. And believe me, that rankles. I pride myself of my one hundred percent –"

"Mr Halliday."

The other man paused. "Yes, of course. Well, that _gou ri de_ Guild is about as tight as you can get. Then someone contacted me."

"Who?"

"I don't know. I didn't ask. You don't in my business."

"What did they tell you?"

"Only that Inara Serra's son was on Greenleaf. Gave me an address, a name."

"That it?"

"Well, they did say … It didn't make sense so I didn't pass it on. But it was something about a demerit."

Mal sat forward. "What about it?"

"Just that. Demerit 9503. Why, does that mean something to you?"

"Maybe." Mal sucked air through his teeth. "Anything else?"

"No, nothing."

"And you've no idea where the message came from?"

"It was a secure line. Very secure. The kind that I'd usually associate with the Alliance. Or someone equally powerful."

"Powerful …" Mal repeated quietly.

"Look, if that's everything, I really have business to attend to."

Mal nodded, dragging himself back to the matter in hand. "Yeah. And thanks."

"If I hear anything else, where are you going to be?" Halliday asked, deceptively nonchalant.

"Boros," Mal lied, then shrugged. "Inara's decided she needs a break before carrying on with this _fong luh_ quest of hers. Can't say I blame her. Mighty disconcerting having someone try to kill you."

"Right. Well, tell her good luck from me." Halliday signed off.

There was silence on the bridge for a moment, then Mal got up from the pilot's seat and stood facing away from the stars.

"Did he mean …" Zoe began.

"He did." Mal's anger boiled over and he picked up one of Kaylee's tools from the box on the floor and threw it against the wall. "_Tah mah duh yao guai_!"

"Um, Mal …" Hank spoke hesitantly. "I think you broke it."

"I'll replace it." He turned back to look at the pilot. "Let's see if Kaylee's right about that fuel we salvaged."

"Greenleaf fast as we can?"

Mal nodded.

--

Freya poked gently at the solidifying plaster.

"Leave it alone," Simon said wearily, preparing a hypo and injecting it into his arm.

She looked up at him. "The therapy?"

He nodded. "I'm tailing it off as fast as I can, but …"

"There's a limit to how much the body can take." She understood.

"Back on Osiris this would have been checked, cleaned out of my system easily. But here …"

"Simon, you're dealing with it."

"There's still dangers."

"Always are." She looked back at her knee. "And it's no safer there. Out here you might die from a heart attack because of a medicine, or a bullet in the brainpan, but even on the Core things can end you just as quick." She poked at the plaster again.

"I told you, stop that."

"It itches. And it's –" She lifted her head and gazed at the girl on the medbed. "Simon."

River opened her eyes and for a moment she didn't remember. Then the memory flooded back and she whimpered.

"_Xiao mei-mei_?" Simon stepped close, looking down at his sister.

"Simon?"

"It's all right, River. I'm here." He took her hand.

"He's dead," she whispered.

"I know."

"I didn't get the chance to say goodbye." She rolled away from him, drawing her knees up to her chest, and Simon felt his heart breaking for her.

"Leave us be," Freya said softly, sliding awkwardly off the counter.

"Frey –"

"Just for a little while."

"I don't know what to say." His face was as anguished as his voice.

"It isn't words she needs. Let us be for a while." She managed to pull the stool around so she could face River, hitching herself up onto it, touching the medbed.

Simon nodded slowly and walked out of the infirmary.

"Honey?" Kaylee put her arms around him, letting him hold her tight, his body trembling.

Freya sat still, not moving, not caring any longer about her state of semi-undress, or the pain in her knee. She was just there, letting her compassion and understanding flow out, offering River whatever she needed.

For a long while nothing happened, then the young girl inched forward until her head was lying in Freya's lap, and the older woman stroked her hair.


	14. Chapter 14

Greenleaf was only an hour out as most of the crew congregated in the galley. Only River and Freya were absent.

"We've heard back from Halliday," Mal said, leaning on the back of his chair.

"And?" Inara asked. "What could he tell you he didn't tell me?"

"Not much. But enough so I've got a pretty good idea who's after you."

Inara sat forward. "Who?"

"The Guild."

Her jaw dropped. "That's not possible."

"Mal, the Guild is respected throughout the galaxy," Simon said, wiping at his forehead. He was sweating again, nausea eating at his insides.

"Who knows about your demerit, Inara?" Mal asked, looking only at her, aware of the doctor's discomfort but not acknowledging it.

"My …" She glanced around the table. "You do. And … and the Guild."

"Nobody else."

"It's kept confidential. There's no need for it to be made … Mal, why?"

"Because whoever gave Halliday that info also told him about a demerit. Specifically no. 9503."

Inara paled. "That's ridiculous."

"We heard him too," Hank said, pointing to himself and Zoe.

"But why would they … I can't believe just because I left –"

"Somehow I ain't thinking it's that at all," Mal interrupted.

"Wing?" Zoe asked.

Her captain shrugged. "Maybe." He looked back at the woman at the end of the table. "Did Xavier Wing have anything to do with the Guild?"

"We're … they're autonomous. They always have been." Inara was trying desperately to think.

"Except Wing had information from them, didn't he?" Simon pointed out.

"'Bout your son," Kaylee added.

"Guild notepaper, with the red seal … that's what River saw in Sheydra's mind," Inara breathed.

"Did she tell you something?" Mal asked quickly. "Something maybe the Guild don't want anyone to know?"

She thought back. "She … well, she intimated that certain Companions used their skills to influence clients somewhat. But, Mal, she was just lashing out at me!"

"What if she wasn't?"

Inara stared. "Mal, you can't be suggesting –"

"Maybe it's just one or two. Maybe it's more. But if the Guild were using Companions to change the order of things –"

"No!" Inara shouted above him, then drew herself together, grasping at the remains of her poise. "The Guild has to be non-political. Neutral. At least in that sense. Of course Companions have their own opinions, but they don't … they can't …"

"No?"

"But I'd have heard. I'd know." Her voice had dropped to almost a whisper.

"Maybe they didn't trust you," Hank suggested quietly. "You'd already broken the rules. Maybe they kept it from you on purpose."

"And my son? Are you saying he has something to do with this?" Inara clasped her hands tightly in her lap.

"Children have been used as bargaining chips in wars before," Zoe said softly.

"We're not at war!"

"It's still valid." Mal held up his hand to forestall her next outburst. "Point is, someone knew you were speaking to Halliday. Told him to send you to Greenleaf. And that information –"

"Do you think it was a lie?" Inara asked, her face paler than ever.

Mal shrugged. "Maybe. But I don't see the reason if it was. Those killers were sent to get you, so it wouldn't have made any point to lie."

"And he coulda checked," Kaylee said quickly. "See if the name and place were real."

"We're close to finding out." Mal stood straight. "Be on Greenleaf in less than an hour. And I don't intend us staying longer'n we need."

"Mal –" Inara started.

"They're still after you. Whoever the _diyu _they are. We don't wanna make it too easy for them. Do we?"

Inara took a deep breath and nodded. "No."

"Shiny." Mal looked at Simon. "How's your sister?"

"Awake. That's about all that's good." He sighed. "Freya's sitting with her, but … it's going to be bad."

Mal nodded, sadness touching his eyes. "Know too well how it feels to lose someone, doc. We all do."

"Can we … can we do anything?" Kaylee asked. "Talk to her? Anything?"

"I don't know," Simon admitted. "I'm a doctor, and I still don't know what to do about this."

"Honey, it's because she's your sister." Kaylee took his hand, holding it between both of her own.

"It ain't fair," Jayne rumbled, the first words he'd said. He scowled around the table. "Ain't fair to put her through that."

"I agree," Simon said quietly.

"'N' when I find the ones who did this, they're gonna pay." He stood up abruptly, his chair squealing on the floor, and strode out of the galley towards his bunk.

"It wasn't his fault," Kaylee said softly.

"I don't think he's going to listen right now, sweetheart," Simon said, shaking his head.

--

"Hey," Mal said, standing in the infirmary doorway.

"Hi." Freya smiled at him.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure."

Mal stepped over the sill and approached the bed. He looked down into a pair of dark eyes, their depths filled with sadness. "Hey there, albatross."

"Captain." Barely a sound from her lips, more a breath.

"Ain't gonna ask how you are. I can see it's bad."

She nodded, her head still in Freya's lap. "Hurts," she whispered.

"I know." He put his hand on hers, thankful when she didn't pull it away.

"Where is he?"

Mal didn't have to ask who. "He's … we're looking after him."

"Can't see him." She began to tremble. "Holding tight, so close otherwise I'll break into a million pieces and no-one can put me together again. Still cracked. Broken."

Mal looked at Freya. "She's afraid. If she lets go. What will happen."

"You mean she hasn't cried?"

"No."

He leaned over so he was looking directly into her face. "What do you think you might do, _mei-mei_?"

"Hurts." She blinked hard. "Have to keep in control." She bit her lip. "Don't want to hurt you."

"Are you thinking about what Freya did? From that dark place?" He didn't have to look at his wife to know she understood.

"Worse. Much worse."

"River, honey, nothing I can say's gonna help. I know that. But we're all here for you."

She nodded, just a very small movement. "I know."

"Look, I know this ain't the best of times to ask – though I doubt there is a good time, but –"

"Prometheus," she whispered.

Mal glanced at Freya, then back at the girl. "You sure?"

"I don't want him to be lonely." She shuddered.

"Okay." He straightened up and looked at his wife. "Is that okay with you?"

Freya nodded, stroking the girl's hair but feeling the same sharp tug of pain whenever anyone went near the subject of their daughter. "Of course."

"River, we've just got the other … thing to deal with first, _dong mah_?" he said softly, his expression gentle.

"Inara."

"That's it. Then we'll head for Prom." He watched as her free hand crept up to her lips, her thumb going between them. It made him hurt even more for her. "Freya'll stay with you, if you want."

She didn't answer, just lay staring into nothing.

--

Simon grabbed the towel and wiped his mouth, then sat back. He was pretty sure he was dehydrated, but right now he couldn't keep anything down. Even water seemed to come right back up.

Reaching over he pressed the button to flush then leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed. It was almost funny if it wasn't so pathetic, but he'd been seeing this particular view just a little too often. Not since the sake days at Medacad had he spent so long with his head down a toilet.

"It doesn't seem to be improving," Mal said from the doorway, leaning on the jamb, his arms crossed.

"There's no easy way around this," the doctor replied, not opening his eyes. "I just have to get through it."

"I'm thinking that when we hit Greenleaf you'd best stay on board."

"I wasn't considering getting off."

"Good." Mal paused for a moment. "That DNA tester-doodad, the one you used on Simon Cobb. Is it easy to use?"

Simon sighed and went to get up. "I'll -"

"No, you stay there. Don't really want to be having to put on another clean shirt today." The young man glared at him and Mal suppressed a smile. "Just tell me where it is."

"It's in the cupboard with the painkillers." He shook his head. "But you need to know what you're looking at."

Mal considered. "Okay. Be ready if we need to."

"Okay." Simon lay his head back again against the cool bulkhead.

The captain turned to go then glanced back. "Can't you take something? Stop you stinking my ship up?"

Simon opened his eyes to glare at the captain, then realised his words didn't tally with the concerned look on his face. "I have been," he admitted. "Only the anti-emetics I've got on hand seem to be short-lived in their efficacy."

"So they've stopped working."

"Seems so."

"Are there others we can get somewhere? Might be a bit more effective?"

Simon thought for a moment. "There's a couple I could try. But they're not cheap."

"You let me worry about that. When you can, write 'em down for me. I'll see what I can do. Oh, and doc?"

"Yes?"

"If this don't stop soon I'm considering handing you over to Freya. She'll hook you up to some drips to get some fluid back into you. And I have the feeling she won't be too gentle about the needles either."

"Thanks," Simon said sarcastically.

Mal grinned and headed back towards the cargo bay.

"Cap?"

He looked up the stairs. Kaylee was sitting on the step half way up. "What's up, _mei-mei_?"

"Is he all right?"

"He's your husband. Shouldn't you be asking him that question?"

"He's worried about River. I don't want to …" Kaylee wrung her hands together. "It's right he should be, a'course. But -"

"You're tempted to shout at him again?"

"A little."

He climbed the stairs and sat down next to her, taking her hand in his. "He's gonna be fine. Soon as he can stop throwing up he'll be back to his usual, annoying self."

"Simon ain't annoying."

"You ain't seen him from my side."

She smiled, just a little. "Only once in a while." Then she was serious again. "Bethany's been asking what's going on," she said, shaking her head. "I don't know what to tell her."

"Not sure what to say about that, little Kaylee. Ain't at all sure Bethany's old enough to understand."

"She's very advanced for her age." She sniffed. "Simon says it must be the Tam genes. Keeps telling me how River was doing all this amazing stuff when she was only a little bit older."

"Not just the Tam genes," Mal said gallantly. "The Frye ones are pretty special too."

"They're okay. But …" She paused. "What … when your Pa died, when did your Ma tell you?"

Mal didn't answer for a long moment, and Kaylee thought she'd upset him, then he sighed. "I was 'bout five when it happened. My momma told me it was an accident, could've happened to anyone. But I don't think I realised he wasn't coming back for a while. Kept looking out the window, waiting for him to ride up on that big old bay of his. Only he never came." He shook his head to clear the memories out.

"Bethany wants to know where Jethro is."

"I didn't think they were that close."

"She spent more time with him and River than I think anyone realises. She liked him."

"Reckon we all did. He kinda grew on you, 'specially after he'd saved our lives on that ship." Mal sighed. "Tell her the truth, Kaylee. If she's old enough to ask, she's old enough to know something's up, and if you lie to her now, well, she might not trust you again when it's something bigger."

"I just don't know how to say it."

"Plainly, is my advice. Don't try and flower it up with all kinds'a colourful language." He looked into her face. "The boy's dead, and he ain't coming back. And much as we might wish it, this ain't gonna be the only death she has to deal with in her life."

"What if she asks to see him?"

"No, now that's different. I'm not sure anyone's ready for that, and not at her age. Telling her'll be enough."

"Did you see your daddy?"

"No. My momma wouldn't let me, and I don't think I ever asked."

She leaned against him, and he put his arm around her. "I wanted to keep her safe from all this," she said softly.

"I know." He squeezed gently. "And you will. You are. You're a hell of a good mother, Kaylee."

"Thanks."

"And a damn good wife. Now, you'd better get in there and see to your husband."

She looked into his face and saw the smile he kept for her. "'Kay." She got to her feet and walked slowly down the steps. At the bottom she turned and looked up at him. "When did you know he wasn't coming back?"

Mal pondered a moment. "You know, if I was honest, probably not until the following summer, when the local Preacher was going on one Sunday about the righteous sitting at God's right hand. And suddenly it hit me. First time I ever cried in front of other people." He shook his head a little. "But not the last."

"You're a nice man, captain."

"You keep saying that, maybe one day I'll start to believe you." He climbed to his feet and headed for the bridge.

Kaylee stepped into their cabin and slid the door closed. The Cap was right … there was a certain odour in the air, and she made a mental note to boost the scrubbers a little.

Simon was still on the floor, his eyes tight shut. "Mal, I said I'd get it ready."

"Not him, Simon," Kaylee said gently, and smiled as her husband's eyes flew open and focused on her.

"_Ai ren_," he said, smiling, starting to struggle to his feet.

"No, you stay there," she said quickly, sliding down the wall to sit next to him.

"It's not exactly the most comfortable spot in the room," he objected.

"It's fine." She took his hand, feeling how clammy his palm was. "I'm still angry with you, y'know."

"Really?"

"Oh, I don't think I'll be gettin' over it any time soon. And every time I look at you, like this, it just makes it worse."

"It's not so bad."

"I heard, Simon."

He quickly replayed the conversation he'd had with Mal in his head. "Ah."

"Yeah. I know eavesdroppin's bad, but sometimes it's the only way I get to know how you really feel."

"We talk."

"Not about this."

He sighed. "Maybe … maybe it's because I don't want you feeling bad."

"Already do."

He turned enough to look at her. "My decision, Kaylee. And if I'm honest I didn't really know it was going to be as … physical as this."

"And it's worse because you're tailing it off?"

"Mal was right. The therapy was … it wasn't safe. At least the tachycardia's stopped now. It'll just be unpleasant for a while longer."

"How long?" Her brown eyes stared into his. "And don't lie to me."

"A couple of weeks. Maybe three."

"Oh, Simon."

He put his arm around her, holding her against him. Her hands clasped around his waist. "I'm sorry, _bao bei_."

"Nothing for you to be sorry about. You thought it was the right thing to do." She looked into his face. "Even top three percent get it wrong sometimes."

"That's never going to go away, is it? Top three percent."

"Nope." She snuggled against him a little. "Just like things being inappropriate."

He sighed.

For a minute they were silent, just enjoying the closeness, then Kaylee asked the question she'd been wanting to for weeks. "We're … we ain't gonna have any more kids, are we?"

Simon didn't answer for a moment, then said, "Probably not."

Her grip on him tightened. "Because you're stopping that therapy."

"Yes."

"Thought not. Good."

"What?" He stared down at her.

"More babies is a possibility, Simon," she said, her eyes full of love and sincerity. "A maybe. Something for a not sure future. But you're here. Right now. With me. My husband. And I want to keep you for a long time."

"But Kaylee -"

"There's kids out there, Simon. Babies with not even one parent to love and protect them. If we need to, we could give a home to one of them." She smiled. "But we've got Bethany. And she's the sweetest little daughter I could ever wish for. And if'n she's it, I'm happy. I'm happy, Simon."

"You're remarkable."

"I'm just Kaylee. A little girl from a working family who just got lucky. Found herself a good man."

"Kaylee …" He went to kiss her but she put her hand quickly over his mouth.

"Not 'till you've rinsed at least," she said, scrambling to her feet. "And I've got things to do." She leaned over and pressed her lips quickly to his forehead before running out of the door.

He watched her go, amazed as always at her strength and fortitude. Then another wave of nausea hit and he was on his knees, his head over the bowl. As his body retched, one part of him, he was surprised to note, was actually happy. Kaylee understood. Supported. Loved. Now if only he could figure out how to help his sister …

--

The sound of a ship landing close by had everyone at the windows and doors. Ships didn't land here. They went to the port, and people arrived properly, up the drive, respectably. Yet there it was, a somewhat odd looking vessel in the paddock, its stern glowing against the sunlight. And a ramp was lowering at the front.

She glanced at her son at her side, straining to see the new arrival over the window sill. "Stay here," she said quietly.

"Yes, momma." He was still staring.

"Madam?" Ardenn was standing in the doorway.

"Keep everyone inside. I'll find out what they want."

"Madam, is that wise?"

"Just do it. And take the rifle to one of the upper rooms. Where you have a good view."

Ardenn smiled, just a little. "Yes madam."

She took a deep breath and smoothed her dress down, then walked with seemingly no great haste out of the large double doors into the Greenleaf sunshine.

Five people had walked out of the ship, three men and two women. One of the men stayed by the open door, but the others crossed the ground towards her.

"I don't know what you want here," she said, her voice ringing clearly in the morning air. "But my husband will be home shortly."

"Domina Delacroix," the woman in front said.

Domina stared. She looked familiar, her hair piled elegantly on her head, her clothes fashionable and expensive. "Gerhardt," she said. "Domina Gerhardt. I haven't been Delacroix since -"

"The Guild."

"She was a Companion?" asked the tall man at her side in surprise. His thumbs were tucked into a gunbelt slung low around his hips.

"No," the woman said. "She was a tutor. Taught etiquette and deportment, if memory serves me correctly. Of course, she never lived by the same rules and regulations we had to."

"Rules …" Domina stared. "You're a Companion?"

"I was. In fact, I'm surprised you don't remember me. Of course, I was already licensed by the time you joined the House, but we spent some time together. Have I changed that much?"

Domina swallowed. "Inara?"

Inara Serra smiled. "I didn't think I was that forgettable. And besides, I'm sure the Guild would have told you I was going to come looking for my son." The warmth in her voice froze into solid ice, and Domina felt her heart begin to race.

"Momma?" A small boy ran out of the house and stood next to her. A boy of about seven, with dark hair and eyes that seemed hauntingly familiar.

"Colm, go back inside," Domina said firmly.

"No, momma. Poppa's away. I'm the man of the house." He stuck out his chin and stared at the visitors.

"Colm."

Inara thought her knees were going to give way, and it was only the presence of Mal standing next to her that gave her the strength to step forward. "He's the image of his father," she said softly. "My son."


	15. Chapter 15

Domina put her arm around the boy. "He's not your son."

"Why don't we go inside?" Mal said. "It's kinda hot out here, and I could do with sitting in the shade." He smiled. "'Sides, I don't like talking when there's a rifle trained on me." He looked up towards the first floor and the glint of sunlight on a gun barrel. "Ain't planning on shooting anyone, so I'd take it as a kindness if you'd do the same."

"I don't …" Domina looked down, almost embarrassed at being caught out, then up again in defiance at this tall man with the piercing blue eyes. "This isn't a conversation I want to have in front of my son."

Inara bridled, but Hank spoke quickly, running a hand through his untidy brown hair. "Why don't I keep your … the boy entertained out here?" He grinned at Colm, who smiled tentatively back. "We won't go anywhere."

"I don't know …" Domina said doubtfully.

"Good idea, Hank," Mal agreed. "Ain't planning on kidnapping either, Mrs Gerhardt. So, shall we?" He indicated she should go first.

"Mal …" Inara murmured.

"Take it easy. And remember to breathe."

She shot him a sharp look but followed.

"So," Hank said, still smiling. "You're Colm."

"Yes." The boy looked at him.

"I'm Hank. And that's my boat." He flicked his thumb over his shoulder.

"Yours?"

"I'm the pilot."

"Oh." He paused then said, "She's a Firefly."

"That she is," Hank said, surprised. "How'd you know that?"

Colm pulled a magazine from his back pocket. "I know about ships." He stepped closer and showed Hank the pictures. There, in all her glory, was a Firefly.

"Hey, how old is this?" Hank asked, turning to the front cover.

"I found it in some of my poppa's stuff," Colm admitted. "He said it was rubbish, that I could keep it."

"Not rubbish."

Colm grinned. "No. Do you really fly her?"

"I surely do."

"What's it like?"

Hank sighed happily. "Well, let me tell you …"

--

Freya watched from inside the cargo bay as the others went into the house, leaving Hank to look after the little boy. Even from this distance Freya could see the resemblance between him and Inara, and shook her head. She'd almost hoped it had been a false alarm, just another lie from the Guild, but it looked like Inara really had found her son. How that would affect her was anybody's guess. Nor what she was likely to do …

A sound from behind her had her turning back, hobbling somewhat painfully into the common area.

The infirmary was empty, River nowhere in sight.

Freya hurried to the girl's room, but that was just as unoccupied. Then a sneaking suspicion like a thread of ice water down her spine had her going as quickly as she could up the stairs towards the storage locker, hissing as she jarred her knee.

"It's cold," River said, staring inside through the tiny window.

"Coldest place on the boat," Freya agreed, coming up behind her.

"Lonely."

"Honey, you don't want to be here."

"When I saw him last he was happy. Smiling. Going off to book that stupid table in that stupid restaurant so he could make love to me." She didn't move, didn't blink. "How can I know he's dead if I don't see?"

"River, you felt it."

The girl nodded, her dark hair falling limply around her face. "I felt it. But I didn't see it." She leaned a hand on the window. "He wanted to make love to me. Make me a woman. And I wanted him to. I wanted to feel his flesh lying next to mine, on mine, in mine … and now it's just cold clay. He said he couldn't, not here, not with people listening, and he wouldn't take notice of me when I said we would be the only ones hearing." Her voice had no inflection, just the same level tone. "The only ones in the whole 'verse."

"River, please come back downstairs."

"I didn't say goodbye."

Freya sighed. "You want to."

"I have to. Mal's going to lay him in the cold earth, and if I don't know he's dead I can't let that happen." She turned her head to look at Freya over her shoulder. "I have to see." Such despair on her young face.

With a heavy heart, Freya nodded. "Okay." She pulled on the handle and the door slid silently open. A wave of cold air washed out, with only the promise of decay.

River stepped inside, her bare feet hardly touching the floor as she walked across to where Jethro's body lay on the bench, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes closed. She looked down at him, her head on one side.

"He looks asleep." She reached out to touch his cheek. "But he's so cold." Suddenly she was on her knees, laying her head on his chest, putting her arms around him.

"River …" Freya said from the door.

"Nothing," the girl said. "No sound. No spark of life hiding in the darkness." She looked into his face. "Nothing left for me." She stood up, leaning over him. With infinite care she brushed her lips across his, her hand cupping his cheek, her thumb brushing an imaginary tear from his skin. "Gone," she whispered, turning on her heel and running out of the room.

"Oh, great," Freya muttered to herself, closing the door and following her, trying not to fall down the metal stairs. The door to River's room was closed. "Honey?" she called. "Let me in."

"No. No-one here. No-one left to talk to," came a quiet voice almost too low to hear.

"River, please."

"She's gone. Nothing left in here. Go away."

Freya sighed and leaned on the wall. She considered barging in anyway, but that probably wouldn't help. And she now had to tell Mal she'd let River … oh, this was so not a good day.

--

Inside the house things weren't going a much better.

"He's my son," Inara said. "And it will take the work of a moment to prove it. His DNA will tell the truth, even if you don't."

"He's not yours." Unfortunately Domina found it hard to lie convincingly.

"I thought he was dead, Domina. They told me he was dead." Inara was holding her anger inside, keeping it under control.

"I don't know anything about that," the other woman insisted.

"Tell me, Domina," Inara said, her voice deceptively soft. "Tell me he's your blood."

Domina stared, then her strength failed her and she sat down on the edge of the chair. "Inara, I … I wish I could."

Mal looked from one to the other, then nodded. "Well, at least that's out in the open. Kinda opens a whole other can of worms, but at least we've got past the lying bit." He glanced at Zoe, standing solidly by the door, and she relaxed a little, moving her hand away from her mare's leg.

"Are you going to try and take him away from us?" Domina asked, her fingers knotted together tightly in front of her. "If you try, I promise I will fight you to the last breath in my body. He's our son, no matter that I didn't carry him."

Outside, in the still air, Zoe could see Hank playing with the boy, teaching him how to make little paper aeroplanes out of an old magazine.

"Until a few weeks ago I didn't even know he was alive. I had no idea he didn't die when I gave birth to him, Domina. Because the Guild lied to me."

"I didn't know." Domina stood up, going to the window to look out. "I can't have children of my own, and when the Guild offered me … Inara, I wanted a child so badly."

"So did I." Inara stared through the window. "He's my son, Domina."

"And he doesn't even know your name!" The other woman stepped closer. "We're the only family he's ever known, Inara. You'd take him away from that, from a loving house, a stable environment, and expect him to live on that piece of _gos se_?"

"Serenity isn't _gos se_," Inara said, watching Hank roll on the dirt with the child in his arms. "And there's already two children on board. He'd never be on his own."

"He isn't now." Domina shook her head. "Please, Inara. Think what you're asking. He's … Colm is ours."

Hank had lifted the boy up into the air, holding him like he was one of the little planes, swooping him to and fro. The child was laughing.

"I gave birth to him."

"And I've raised him. If we're going to talk about time, you had him nine months. I've had him nearly eight years."

Inara turned on the other woman, her voice savage. "They stole him from me, Domina! Told me he was dead, that I hadn't been strong enough to keep him alive! Ripped him from me!"

"That wasn't us," Domina said, taking a step backwards. "We didn't know … they just said –"

"Just said? And you didn't think there was something odd going on?"

"The Guild –"

"The Guild sold my child!"

"And you're a Companion!" Domina shouted at last. "You should never have got pregnant in the first place!"

"I loved him," Inara said, her voice suddenly so quiet it was hard to hear her. "I loved Gregor. Two crimes, then. But did I have to be punished like that?"

"You gave him up! Signed away your rights!"

"I wanted to hold him. Tell him I loved him. And they said he was dead."

Mal exchanged a glance with Zoe, then cleared his throat. "As fascinating as this is, it don't exactly solve our current dilemma."

"Dilemma?" Domina said savagely. "You're talking about kidnapping my son!"

"I'm talking about taking him home." Inara glared.

"And neither of you are gonna agree quite yet." Mal sighed. "So in the meantime, maybe you can shed a little light on another problem we've got."

Domina tore her eyes away from Inara. "Problem?"

"Nothing of too much importance. 'Cept maybe why the Guild wants 'Nara dead."

"Dead?"

"I believe I said that."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't know much, do you?" Mal shook his head. "The Guild sent a crew to kill her. It's only by good fortune and my crew that she ain't dead right now." He took a breath. "We think it might be something to do with some information she got from Sheydra Velez."

"Sheydra?" Domina lifted her head. "I haven't heard that name … how is she?"

"Dead."

Domina's jaw dropped. "Dead?"

"Yeah. Seems to be catching." Mal took her arm, led her to the sofa and sat her down. He spoke gently to her, like he would to a skittish horse, trying to gain her trust. "Sheydra said something about the Guild trying to influence some of their clients. I suppose you wouldn't know anything about that either?"

Domina jerked. "I …"

"Ah." Mal sat back a little. "Looks like we maybe ain't as crazy as some of us thought."

"How did you know?" Domina asked, her face going pale. "It's so secret there's probably not more than a few dozen who know."

"The Agreement," Mal hazarded, and was rewarded by the woman nodding.

"I thought no-one outside the Guild and the Elect knew about it."

"Probably not." Mal tried to bluff a little more, a skill he was very practiced at using. "Details are a little vague though. What's the exact wording?"

"Only that the Guild would remain untouched during the war in exchange for any information that might be learned by the Companions involved." She peered at him, somewhat confused. "How did Sheydra find out? She wasn't one of them."

Mal stood and went to stand by Zoe. "Sheydra had plans of her own," he said quietly, then looked at his first mate, who nodded slowly.

"Do you want it?" Domina asked.

Mal's head whipped round. "You've got it?"

"Everyone who signed kept a copy. And the Guild, of course." She looked at Inara. "If I give it to you, will you let me keep Colm?"

"You want to bribe me?" Inara looked shocked.

"I love him, Inara," Domina said, pleading in her voice. "Please."

They were interrupted by the door bursting open.

"Momma, momma, look what Hank made me!" Colm said excitedly, rushing into the room, holding up one of the little planes.

"Hey, that's mighty fine," Mal said, smiling and going down onto his heels. "What kind is it?"

"A Firefly!" Colm said, zooming it around his head.

"Shiny. Didn't know my pilot had a talent for this kinda thing."

"He said he'd teach me to fly if I wanted." He stopped and gazed up at his mother. "Can I? Can I learn to be a pilot like Hank?"

Domina caught her breath. "I don't know, sweetheart. It's not … I don't know." She collapsed onto the settee.

"Momma?" Colm was immediately concerned, going to stand by her and putting his small hand on her shoulder. "Momma?"

Inara looked down at him, at Mal, whose face had softened as the boy spoke to him. Then she looked at Domina. "Show it to us," she said finally.

Hank took Colm back outside while Domina opened a safe, hidden behind a family portrait, and removed an envelope, taking a single sheet from inside.

"My father was important in the Alliance, and when this was suggested, he …" Domina licked her lips. "We were at war. You have to remember that. That's what he told me. We were at war, and the Independents were stronger than they had ever realised. They needed any advantage they could get." She handed it to Mal. "They thought they were in the right."

"_Hun zhang_," Mal muttered under his breath.

The signatures were like a who's who of the high ups of the Alliance. Josiah Delacroix, Xavier Wing, Damiana Popov, Ang Fu Long … names that encompassed Parliamentary members and the mega rich. Then three signatures he didn't recognise.

Inara did, though. "The Triumvirate," she whispered, appalled.

"As I said, everyone had a copy. Each signatory. They insisted." Domina pointed to it. "The Guild weren't happy about it, but –"

"Ain't surprised. It's a gorram timebomb."

"No-one else was ever supposed to know about it."

Mal carried the vellum sheet to the window in order to read it fully. It was surprisingly short for such a dangerous document …

'_This Agreement_ _is made between the Allied Planets and the Guild of Companions. For the duration of the current conflict, and for any period thereafter, all Guild Houses shall be free from Alliance interference or damage, to be allowed to carry on their normal functions. Companions will be unmolested and allowed free movement. In exchange for this concession, any and all information gained during the performance of their contracts that is deemed relevant shall be passed to the Group for use as they see fit. Signed this day by …"_

"A lot of the names on this Agreement are dead," Domina said, shaking her head. "My father of course, Jason Kwang, Adeian Ross … and I heard Xavier Wing had been murdered a few weeks ago."

"Really," Mal said. "Must be something in the air." He tapped the Agreement. "You inherited this?"

"My father gave it to me on his deathbed, three years ago. He … he was ashamed he'd ever signed it." She rubbed her hands down her arms as if she was cold. "I didn't know anything about it, I swear, not until he gave it to me. I didn't know this was probably why they gave me Colm." She was pleading with him. "My father said more people died during the war because of it. He often wondered, in his last days, whether that was why the Independent Command didn't complete the defence of Hera."

Mal didn't answer, but his knuckles whitened.

Domina turned to Inara. "You can keep this if you'll leave Colm with me."

"He's not a commodity!" Inara said, her voice dangerously low. "You can't just offer to -"

Mal handed the document back. "No. 'Nara's right. The boy ain't to be sold. Not even for this."

"But he's my son." Domina was beseeching them. "I don't care if I didn't carry him. I love him. He loves us. We're the only family he's ever known."

Inara stared at her, biting her lip and tasting blood. "He doesn't know me," she said softly, almost to herself.

Mal turned to look at her, and knew what was going through her mind. "They're a good family," he murmured.

"I know." She closed her eyes, two tears running down her cheeks. She knew what she had to do, for the boy's sake, for her _son's_ sake, but it was so hard. So very hard. She took a deep breath and looked at Domina. "If I hear he's mistreated in any way …" she said quietly.

Hope blossomed on the other woman's face. "You mean …"

"This is his home. He loves you." She swallowed. "If I take him away now, he would be unhappy, and that would hurt more than leaving him here."

Domina took her hand. "Thank you."

"No. Don't thank me." Inara pulled away. "He's still my son. I want what's best for him."

"I could … if you tell me where you are, I could let you know how he is. Maybe send a capture …" Domina suggested diffidently.

"Perhaps." Her heart was breaking, and there was nothing she could do about it. "If he asks, tell him."

"If he asks."

Inara understood. Colm would never know he wasn't Domina's flesh and blood. He'd never have a reason to ask. "I have to go now, Mal," she said, holding out her hand.

He let her take his arm, gripping tightly. "Yeah." He led her out of the room.

"Wait." Domina ran after them, catching them at the door. She held out the Agreement. "Here. Take it."

"This isn't payment, Domina," Inara said, her face pale.

"No. But I have the feeling it might come in useful." She looked out to where Colm stood next to Hank, chatting away excitedly. "And I have all I could ever want."

Inara swallowed. "Domina, I –"

Mal took the document. "Thanks." He put his hand under Inara's elbow. "Come on," he said softly, leading her outside into the light.

Colm ran up. "Are you going already?"

Mal smiled down at him. "Have to. Things to do."

His little face fell. "I wanted to go for a ride."

"Maybe another time. But I think your momma needs you right now."

Colm nodded, standing up straight. "Yes sir," he said, and hurried inside.

"Oh, Mal," Inara whispered, leaning heavily against him.

"Come on. Let's get you home."

Hank waited until they had gone past back towards Serenity then walked up to join Zoe. "Prometheus?" he asked. She nodded. "Won't take us long to get there. Not more than six hours."

"Shiny."

They headed for the Firefly in silence for a moment, then Hank asked, "We ain't taking him with us?"

"No, dear," she said, putting her arm through his. "He's staying with his family."

"Oh."

--

Kaylee watched as her husband led River down towards the small stand of trees. It was late autumn here, and a cool wind was blowing the remaining leaves around in a wild, tussling dance, but for once her sister-in-law didn't want to join in. Bundled up in Inara's thick woollen coat, she looked lost. Her hair whipped about her face but she ignored it, even when it was obviously stinging her eyes.

Kaylee'd sat in the cargo bay while the menfolk dug the grave, taking it in turns, even Simon insisting on helping, making sure it was deep enough so no wild creature could come and disturb things. No coffin for Jethro, though. No time to make one.

No preacher, neither. When Simon suggested it, River had shaken her head. "He wasn't a Shepherd. He never took the white," she murmured. "It would be wrong."

"Someone should say a few words though."

"The captain."

"_Mei-mei_, I don't know –"

"It's okay, doc," Mal had said from the doorway. "I can find something."

Simon had looked grateful, if a bit surprised.

Then they'd dug. Soil was yielding, easy to work, with the soft summer rains that fell around here. When it got deeper only two could dig at a time, so Kaylee made sure they had coffee ready for when they climbed out. Except it was only ever one who changed over at a time. Jayne stayed, his strong arms wielding the shovel like it was judgement day and he needed every bit of mercy he could get. It didn't matter that the Cap'n told him to rest.

"Ain't got time to rest. Need to get this done." He swung another load of earth up over the edge.

"Jayne, there's four of us. We'll get it done."

"Ain't listening, Mal." He carried on, like he was mechanical or something.

And now here they were, all gathered outside, Zoe and Hank standing close together, Mal and Freya to the other side, while Jayne hung back with Inara. Some of the earth had been spread back in the grave to cover over Jethro's mortal remains, but the majority was still waiting.

"Mal," Simon said softly.

The captain stepped forward, pulling something from his pocket, something Kaylee was surprised to recognise as Book's own personal Bible. The pages River had 'fixed' were still raggedy, and the cover well-thumbed, but it was the Shepherd's. Kaylee wondered where the Cap'n had got it, whether he'd taken it from Haven, or if Book had left it behind on board Serenity. Not that it mattered. Not now.

Mal opened the old Bible up at a particular spot, marked by a strip of leather, and began to read out loud, his voice carrying over the wind.

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside the still waters, he restores my soul …"

She felt a tug at her sleeve.

"Momma?" Bethany said, her face full of so much query.

Kaylee leaned down and swung her up into her arms. "It's okay, honey. It's all okay."

Bethany patted her face.

"… Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil. For thou are with me. Thy rod and thy staff comfort me …"

"Momma, he's with Alice now," Bethany said softly.

"How'd you –"

"Auntie River said." Bethany leaned her little face into her mother's neck and held on tight.

"… Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." Mal finished the psalm, and slowly closed the Bible. He went back to stand next to Freya, his arm around her as they stared down at the little marker where their daughter lay buried. Simon, who hadn't taken his arm from around his sister the whole time, turned her back towards Serenity, leading her away. Hank and Zoe followed, their hands tightly wound together. River kept glancing back.

Jayne tugged off his coat, laying it down on the ground before picking up the shovel and beginning to fill in the grave. Kaylee's eyes clouded with tears as she took her daughter back inside.

--

They'd had no time. Barely a few weeks together, yet she felt as if her heart were lying in the cold earth next to his. She couldn't wander Serenity's corridors, didn't feel a part of the ship anymore. She hid in her quarters, eating only the food brought to her, even telling Freya to leave her alone. Mal tried too, bringing her some of the sugar sticks he'd bought for Freya on Ariel, but she couldn't. Everything in her mouth turned to ash, and her eyes burned.

"Jayne," Simon said quietly as the crew left the dining room to go to bed that night after an almost silent meal.

"Yeah?" the big man asked.

Simon waited until they were alone. "Speak to her."

"What?"

"She needs you," the young doctor said.

"You're telling me to go to your sis?" Jayne couldn't believe it.

"Hurt her and I will kill you. But right now she needs you." Simon looked at him with his dark eyes. "I never thought I'd say this, but I think you might be the only one who can help her."

"Doc, I'm the reason she's like this. Jethro died 'cause o' me."

"I don't care. I don't care if you took your gun and shot him yourself. If you feel guilty, then maybe you should. I'm not going to even attempt to talk you out of it. I'm far more worried about my sister. Right now she needs someone, and it isn't me." He lifted his head a little. "Please. Try."

Jayne stared at him, then nodded. He knew what it was costing the young man, but he also knew it was true.

Now he stood outside her room, and raised his hand to knock. He paused, and instead pushed the door to one side.

River was sitting on the floor in the far corner, her hair lank and greasy, crouched like a wild animal.

"Hey now," he said, lowering his voice as if he were speaking to a frightened creature. "You don't need to be going on so."

She looked at him, and all the pain in her flashed across her eyes. "Jayne?" she whispered.

"That's me, darlin'." He closed the door behind him. "And I ain't going anywhere."

She reached out her arms and he crossed the room in a moment, picking her up, light as a feather, and cradling her while she cried into his shoulder.

"Shh, shh," he murmured. "I'm here now."


	16. Chapter 16

As the door to River's room slid closed, Simon couldn't help it. He slammed his fist into the wall of their bunk.

"Oh, honey," Kaylee said, at his side immediately.

"I should be able to do this. Help _my_ sister."

"He loves her."

Her turned angry eyes on her. "What does that ape know about love?"

"He won't hurt her." She led him to the bed, holding the hand he'd abused. "I think he'd prob'ly take one of his guns to himself 'fore he did that."

Simon stared at her. "Why do you think so well of him?"

"Why'd you think so bad?"

"Experience."

"Simon, much as Jayne can be … wearisome at times, he cares about River."

"Wearisome?" The tone of his voice was incredulous. "Is that what you call it? He tried to sell us out on Ariel, he's damn near got us killed on more than one occasion, he's –"

"Saved your lives too. Also more'n once. P'raps he can again." Her quiet voice cut through his anger, his frustration.

"Kaylee, he's only after one thing where women are concerned."

"That ain't true. He's never tried to take advantage of me, or Frey, or Zoe. Not even Inara, and she's … well, she's …"

"I know. But if he tried it with any of them they'd probably just kill him."

Kaylee sighed. "And you don't think River could do that?"

"She might not know –"

"She's twenty-one, Simon. And she was intending to sleep with Jethro."

Simon's eyes widened. "She's a child!"

"She's not. She's a woman, and I reckon you've got to realise that."

"Kaylee –"

"No." She was firm with him. "And what's more I think you know that, in there." She put her hand on his chest. "Otherwise you'd never've asked Jayne to look to her."

"It's just …" He sat back and closed his eyes. "Jayne."

"I know, honey. But if it helps her …"

He pulled her over to lie with her head on his chest. "But Jayne."

"He'll take care o' her. You'll be surprised."

"I'd better be." He tightened his embrace.

--

Inara was hunched up on her bed, holding so tightly to the pillow clutched in her arms that the seams were in danger of bursting. She was crying. Sobbing so hard that she could hardly take a breath between.

"You weren't at dinner," Freya said, stepping awkwardly into the shuttle, a tray balanced on one hand as she used a single crutch under her armpit. "Thought you might like something to eat." She put the food on the small table by the door.

"I'm not hungry," Inara said, wiping angrily at her face. "And doesn't anybody on this damn ship knock?"

"Mal was right," Freya pointed out. "You broke your contract with him. It's his shuttle."

"So you come barging in whenever you like?"

"I didn't barge." Freya looked down at her friend. "And I thought you might like someone to talk to."

"I don't need to talk."

"No?"

Inara glared at her, then a great heaving breath shook her body. "Oh, Freya …"

"It will get better."

"You don't understand!"

"Of course I do." Freya sat down on the edge of the bed, carefully putting her crutch to one side. "I thought I was never going to feel whole again, when I lost Alice."

Inara turned horrified eyes on her. "Oh, Buddha, I …"

"That's okay." Freya smiled a little. "I don't expect people to remember like I do."

"Of course we remember."

"At least you got to see your son. How he looks. What he's like. I never got to see Alice at all. River gave me a picture, but it's not the same." There was a lump in her throat that had been there ever since they'd landed on Prometheus.

"The one on your wall? Above your bunk?"

Freya nodded. "She's certain that's how she would have looked."

"She would have been pretty."

"And your son's gonna grow up into a handsome man, have kids of his own. And maybe one day Domina'll tell him all about you, and he'll come find you."

"To say what? Ask why I sold him for a piece of paper?"

"You didn't sell him. You made the only choice. The right choice. Gorramit, Inara, you know that." There was no heat in her voice.

"Then why do I feel so … lost?" Inara almost wailed, clutching her arms around herself.

"'Cause you are. Right now, there's nothing that's gonna make you feel any different. Except maybe going back to Greenleaf and taking that boy away from his mother."

"_I'm_ his mother!"

"No, you're not. Much as you don't want to believe it, you know Domina is. She loves that boy. Mal told me."

"He looks so like his father," Inara said, picking up a capture off the bed. "Gregor was so _swai_."

Freya took the picture. Two people, looking so young and in love, running towards the capture, laughing, kissing, just enjoying being with each other. Inara and a man. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark haired. Just a little like Mal. "He was," she agreed.

"And that little boy is all I have left of him." Inara began to cry again.

"Inara, a few short weeks ago you thought you had nothing left at all." Freya put her hand out, touching her friend's arm.

"But it hurts. Knowing he's there and I can't hold him, can't touch him, pick him up when he falls down, kiss it better …"

"He's alive. Hold onto that."

Inara pulled away. "It's not enough."

"So what _do_ you want?"

"I want …"

"What? Mal? He's not coming, not this time. You want him to take you into his arms and kiss away all the pain. It isn't going to happen. Oh, he'll be there for you. Hold you, like he does Kaylee. Tell you everything's going to be okay, maybe even make you believe it. But it won't be what you want."

"I know." Inara whispered, not looking at Freya. "It doesn't stop me wanting it."

"You know, the pair of you are the worst fools I've ever come across," Freya said, sitting back and leaning against the bedpost. "If you'd only talked to each other, years ago, you'd probably be the one wearing the wedding ring." She looked down at her hand, at the bare finger on her left hand.

"I doubt that."

"Well, I suppose it's somewhat moot now." Freya sighed. "Pretty much like you being like this. You did the right thing, Inara. The right thing."

"But what do I do?" Inara asked. "What am I?"

"That's up to you." Freya nodded towards the bulkhead. "It's a damn big 'verse out there. And you've got your whole life ahead of you."

"Somehow that doesn't really cheer me up."

Freya smiled a little and shook her head. She pulled the ex-companion into her arms, giving her the physical comfort she craved. "Nope, I suppose it doesn't."

--

"When are we gonna tell everyone?" Hank asked, turning in the pilot's seat to look at Zoe sitting next to him.

She sighed, her head back on the neckrest, eyes closed. "Soon."

"You okay?"

She opened her eyes, looked at him. "Shiny."

"Only I think you might be lying to me again."

"Bit tired," she admitted. "I didn't get me any sleep last night." She reached round to rub the back of her neck.

"You and me both," he said, smiling a little. He got up and stepped behind her. "Here, let me." He put his hands on her shoulders and began to manipulate them.

"Oh, that feels so good," she said, her eyes closing again, just enjoying the feeling of being close to him.

"You know, you need to take things easy," he said, leaning down and talking quietly in her ear. "You ain't exactly on your own in there now."

"People get pregnant, Hank. Every day. They don't stop their lives for it."

"Yeah, but most people don't live on a boat in the black." He shook his head. "Nor have a _hutu dahn_ as a captain."

"Mal knows what he's doing." She groaned a little as Hank's fingers found a particularly hard knot. "Most of the time."

"So knowing what you're doing gets people killed?"

Zoe opened her eyes slowly, moving forward, out of his reach. She stood up and turned to glare at him. "Are you suggesting he knew what was going to happen?"

"Zoe, this ain't the first time we've gone charging in somewhere, all guns blazing. I'm just surprised it ain't happened before." He sounded like he was just stating a fact.

"The captain's a good man," Zoe said, slowly and quietly.

"Ain't saying he isn't. But that's not my point."

"So what is?"

"I know I was nothing in the war, just a grunt for a while, but I heard. All the talk about acceptable losses. So when does it become acceptable, Zoe? At what point is it okay to walk into something knowing someone's like to die?"

"No-one was meant to die."

"Tell that to Jethro back there." He turned away from her, leaning on the console

There was silence that lengthened into dangerous territory.

"What is it?" she asked finally. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Hank, this isn't you. What happened?"

"I screwed up!" he barked, turning on his heel to glare at her. "Okay? I screwed up."

"How?"

"By nearly getting Freya and me killed, that's how!"

"What are you talking about?"

He so didn't want to answer, to admit to his failing, but her gaze had softened, and the look in her eyes made it impossible for him not to speak. "I couldn't kill him. The bad guy. He was … when we were docked … I looked him straight in the face, and knew he was going to shoot, and … and I couldn't. All I could see was … was …" He stumbled to a halt.

"The one on Hera," Zoe finished.

He hung his head. "Yeah."

"But you ain't dead."

"Freya shot him."

"And you think you're a coward."

He shot her a glare. "I am."

"You're not." She put out her hand, touching his face, barely caressing his skin, the other on her belly. "Hank, if we're gonna raise this baby, I don't want his father to be happy with killin'. I want his father to be joyful of life." She smiled, just briefly. "Maybe you should go see that doctor of Freya's. Talk to her."

"I don't want to."

"Don't go thinking that was a suggestion."

He gazed at her, anguish in his grey eyes. "What if I can't keep you safe? What if what happened to Jethro happens to you too?"

"Ain't gonna happen."

"Zoe –"

"Because you and me both are gonna try our gorram best for it not to. So's Mal. And Freya. Everyone on this boat. You think this isn't tearing Mal up inside? That he couldn't protect Jethro? Boy was hardly here long enough to warm the sheets, but Mal feels it."

"I know. I saw."

"Then don't talk crazy."

"It's just –"

"Because I'm pregnant."

"Well, yeah."

"And here I was thinkin' I'd be the one going through the hormonal changes."

"Don't laugh at me."

"I'm sorry." She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm sorry."

"We're gonna have to tell Mal," Hank said softly, holding her tight. "About the baby."

"I know." She spoke into his shoulder, her voice low.

"I tried before, but …"

"It's not the right time."

"Might cheer everyone up."

She pulled back a little. "You think?"

"Can't hurt. Might even make … " He stopped, seeing her unfocus. "What?"

"Listen."

He tipped his head slightly. "Oh, no …"

The sounds of arguing drifted up from the captain's cabin …

--

Freya climbed slowly down the ladder into their bunk. This was the first night back, something she'd insisted on, despite the cast on her knee. She needed to feel normal again, and this was an essential step. The crutches she left by the door in the corridor, and hopped somewhat ungainly down the rungs.

Mal was sitting at the small table, staring at the document in front of him, running his fingers across the signatures for the hundredth time. He'd hardly let it out of his sight for a moment since Domina had given it to him. Something about it fascinated and appalled him at the same time, as if it reeked of the blood of millions.

"Mal, that document could destroy the Guild," she said finally, holding onto the ladder, gazing at him.

He smiled grimly. "A good thing, I'm thinking."

"Mal, you can't!"

He looked up at her, glaring. "Why not?"

"Because there are thousands of Companions out there, and maybe only a dozen, maybe two dozen were ever involved in this."

"Prove it."

"You prove it was otherwise."

He was angry. She was supposed to support him, agree with what he decided. She was his wife, gorramit. "You don't know that."

"Yes I do. Because most Companions are like Inara. Honest and hard working. Would you take away their living? Leave them destitute?"

"That's ridiculous." He went back to examining the Agreement, not wanting to see her face.

"Mal, you let that document out and not a man will contract with a Companion ever again without worrying if he talks in his sleep."

He'd had enough. He stood up and glared at her, his arms crossed. "Frey –"

She wouldn't let him. "They do a good job, Mal. Honest. Respectable. Necessary."

"Whoring ain't necessary!" Now his voice was raised.

"Of course it is! If it wasn't no-one would do it!" She shook her head at him, her tone matching his, maybe louder. "Don't be naïve, Mal. You're many things, but you're not that."

"Frey, from what she said, the Alliance might've had information that changed the outcome of the war." He could still see the angels raining fire down on the Independents, and him not being able to do a damn thing about it …

"We still can't," she said, picking his thoughts out of his mind. "Nothing we do now is going to change that. So what, you want revenge?"

He stepped away from her, as if distance would keep her out of his brain. "'N' if I do?"

"For what? Losing?" It had hurt, his moving back. Hurt like a knife in her belly, and she wanted to hurt in return, and as she lashed out her voice filled the room. "So why don't you go out and start killing folks? Anyone who supported the winning side. Take revenge that way." She sat down on the bed, not looking at him.

"I ain't like that!"

"Or just tell River to start work – let out all that darkness."

He was shocked, and it rippled through him. "That's low."

She was sorry, hadn't meant it, but the words were out there now. "I was going to be one, Mal. Do you think I'd have sold my pillow talk to the highest bidder?"

"No," he ground out.

She rolled onto her back, lifting her leg carefully onto the blanket, staring into the darkness above her. "Inara would never have done it either, and they didn't ask her to. The vast majority of Companions would never even have considered it. They were trained to help people, to counsel and console. Not just satisfy the itch of sexual desire."

"They sell their bodies for money!" His anger flared again. "It only takes a step more to pass on information. Barely that. Frey, millions of people died in that war! My planet was scorched! Everyone I knew, my family –"

"They didn't do it."

He couldn't be in the same room as her, and climbed the ladder into the corridor. He slammed the hatch shut, hearing it echo through the ship. Turning, he was about to go to the bridge when he realised Hank and Zoe were there, apparently staring out at the stars. And the other way, in the galley, Kaylee and Simon were sitting, watching him unashamedly, the young mechanic's face unhappy and concerned.

"_Wo xi wang ni man man si, dan kuai dian xia di yu_," he swore, "_qiang bao hou zi de hun dan_!" He kicked the wall, then leaned both hands on it, his face down.

"Cap?" Kaylee called softly.

Simon put his hand on her arm, shaking his head.

Mal took a deep breath, then another. Sometimes she could … He turned back to his bunk and opened the hatch, stepping down the ladder.

She hadn't moved.

He looked down at her, his stubbornness warring with his intense love for her. Only one of them could win. He sat down next to her. "What do you suggest, then? We lock it away? Destroy it?"

She turned her head to look at him, her eyes dark in the light. "No," she said softly. "But maybe we can use it as leverage …"


	17. Chapter 17

Spring on Sihnon was beautiful. All the flowers coming into bloom, and the melting snow from the mountains powering down the cliffs in great waterfalls. The Guild House nestled against the protective canyon wall, spreading out across the floor, the gold leaf on the bell tower roofs glinting in the soft sunshine. In the far distance the city glittered.

The Firefly settled into the private port beside the House, next to a Lexer and one of the new Parthian C-10s. But if anyone had called Serenity the poor relation, Mal would've shot them.

"You're staying put." Mal said to Jayne, standing by the cargo bay doors, the big man bristling with weapons and grenades.

"Like hell. I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not. Mood you're in you'd probably gut the lot of 'em, and that's not gonna help."

"Mal, they killed the boy."

"I know. And as much as I wish we could stop it, they're gonna get away with it."

"Ain't fair."

"No. But that doesn't change the fact that you're staying here." He settled his gunbelt a little more comfortably. "We've got work to do, and I need you to watch our backs."

"From a bunch of –"

"From anyone."

"Mal –"

"Why're you still arguing? It's been decided." Mal looked up at the catwalk, where Inara was just leaving her shuttle. "You ready?" he asked, his voice different to the way he'd spoken to Jayne.

"No. Not really." She walked slowly down the stairs. "Do you actually think this will work?"

"Frey seems to think so."

"Yes, but she's not walking into the lion's den."

"Only because I told her she couldn't."

"And she listened?"

"Didn't you hear the argument?"

"Was that what it was?" Inara tried a smile. "I thought it was thunder."

"Well, sometimes I feel like I got struck by lightning, yeah." He flashed a grin back.

Zoe and Hank stepped out of the common area, both armed. The pilot handed Mal a com unit. "Freya's on the bridge in case we need to make a quick getaway."

"She mention our slight disagreement?"

"In long and explicit terms."

"Good. Give her something to think on while we're gone." He turned to press the button to lower Serenity's ramp, then stopped at the sight of Simon following his first mate and pilot. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Are you a total _sha gua chun zi_?"

"I have to, Mal." Simon finished buckling the unfamiliar gunbelt around his slim hips. "What's happening to River is their fault. I want to see this finished as much as you do."

"And where'd you get that piece?"

"I gave it to him, sir," Zoe said. "He is right, you know."

"Right." Mal shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only sane person on this boat." He slammed his hand down on the button and let the spring warmth flood into the cargo bay. "Let's go, people."

--

Inara led the way through the twist of corridors, every so often coming to a section that led out onto open balconies, red drapes moving in the breeze, incense drifting in perfumed clouds.

"How come it's so empty?" Hank asked. "I'd'a thought we'd be drawing a lot more attention to ourselves."

"That's Inara's doing," Mal said. "Everyone's at meditation or some such."

"Quiet contemplation," Inara said, looking for all the world as if she were just taking an afternoon stroll with some friends. "Centring themselves before taking the afternoon's clients."

"So what sort of things –" Hank began, but Mal interrupted.

"Ain't here to learn whoring stories," he said firmly. "Got a job to do."

Inara stopped outside an impressive entrance. "This is it. The inner sanctum." There was disgust in her voice.

Mal nodded. "You stay outside 'til we call."

Inara nodded, then watched as her four friends burst through the heavy double doors.

Three people sat behind a long desk on a dais at the end of the room, heads bent over some long scroll, two men dressed in dark robes in front of them. They looked up at the sound of the doors crashing back into the wall, and the woman in the centre jumped to her feet.

"Who are you? What on earth … Get the guards!" she ordered, and the robed men ran for the door, only to stop in confusion as Zoe and Simon aimed guns directly at their heads.

"Not a good idea," Mal said, stepping forwards. "My friends here ain't exactly in the mood to speak nicely to anyone, particularly the young man. He has issues of his own with you, so …"

"What do you want?"

"Well, your attention would be good. And I intend to get it. Unless you want this broadwaved over the entire Cortex." He tossed a sheet of paper onto the table in front of the Triumvirate.

The woman in the centre didn't even glance at it. "This is an outrage. Invading the House is a criminal act. You will be bound by law and –"

"You ain't very bright, are you," Mal interrupted, his tone conversational. "Seems to me you'd want to look at that before you start threatening folks." He added quickly, "And it ain't the original, in case you were wondering. That's safe. Secure. And if anything happens to us, it'll be out in the 'verse before you can squint."

"Get out! Before the Alliance are informed!"

The man looked down at the paper, and his face paled. "Madam Dhow, I think you should look at this."

"I'm not letting some pirate makes demands in my own –"

"Adrienne! Shut up and read this first!"

The head of the Triumvirate glared at him so fiercely he should have backed down, but he returned it with interest. "Well?" she finally said. "What is it?"

He handed it to her with trembling fingers. "Look."

She took the paper, read it, her face becoming as white as her companion.

"Adrienne?" the other woman, so far silent, asked. "What is it?"

Adrienne Dhow sat down heavily, handing it across without thinking. "_Shang di_," she whispered.

"I don't understand." The woman looked up. "What does this mean?"

"I guess you're new," Mal said.

"It's a forgery," Dhow blustered. "Something created to cast shadows on the Guild."

"Really." Mal nodded. "Not sure a forgery would be making such an impression on you." Dhow grabbed the paper back, about to rip it in two. "And like I said, that ain't the original. Just a copy."

Dhow glared at him. "What do you want?" she asked, trying to draw together the fragments of her dignity. "Money? Is that what this is all about? Are you intending to blackmail the Guild?"

Mal shook his head. "Much fun as that might be, no, that's not my intention." He stepped closer to the dais, possibly the first man to do so without showing proper respect. Ever. "It's simple. You pull off your goons, and I don't let everyone know the Guild are a bunch of goddamn spies."

"Goons?" She sneered at him. "The Guild doesn't employ _goons_."

Mal shrugged. "Not really sure I care what you call 'em. Whoever you sent to kill Inara Serra. And, by the way, we kinda saved you some money there. 'Cause they ain't coming back."

It shouldn't have been possible for her face to lose any more colour, but it did. "What are you talking about?"

"Ah, see, now, that wasn't the answer I was looking for." Mal nodded to Hank, who nodded through the open door.

Inara strode in, her head high. "Good afternoon," she said, not even attempting to hide her loathing.

"Serra." Dhow glared. "What insanities have you been telling these people?"

"No insanities. The truth. Which you seem to be unable to recognise."

"_Is_ this true?" the woman next to Dhow asked, staring at her. "What it says in this document? That the Guild made a partnership with the Alliance?"

The man looked at her. "It was war. You don't understand. We were afraid the Houses would be overrun. At least with this we had some protection."

"But to spy –"

"It wasn't spying," Dhow spat. "Just a mutual business arrangement." She returned her glare to Inara. "That's what we do, after all. Business."

"And how many people died because of your _business_?" Inara asked. "How many?"

"That wasn't our affair."

"See, what I find odd is that yours is one of the names on that document," Mal said, stepping onto the dais and looking down at her. "You knew all about this from the start. Something you condoned." He leaned forward, his fists knuckles down on the hard wood. "How many men and women did you make into spies, Adrienne? How many played your dirty little game?"

"Business."

"I don't care what you call it. How many?"

Dhow shrugged. "I don't know."

"Guess."

"Perhaps thirty." She looked down her nose at him. "You make it sound as if all Companions were involved. Of course they weren't. Most never contract with anyone important enough. And some we couldn't trust not to make a stupid fuss." She glanced at Inara.

Mal felt a small knot of tension undo in his belly. Freya had been right. "It was enough."

"We were protecting ourselves," the man insisted. "Who knows what could have happened if we hadn't."

"The Independents would never've attacked a Guild House," Mal said, his voice low. "So the only people you were protecting yours from were those you got into bed with. The damn Alliance." He couldn't hold the bark of laughter inside. "It's almost sad." The laughter died. "No wonder you thought you could watch over yourselves by killing Inara."

The ice in his voice chilled the three people in front of him.

Dhow tried to bluff. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" Mal stepped off the dais, finding the air too close to them to be full of the scent of decay. "Halliday knows."

"He doesn't –" Dhow bit her tongue but it was too late. "And if we did? One life over so many?"

The woman next to her was horrified. "Adrienne, you can't possibly –"

"Oh, don't be so naïve, Ciaran. We had to protect the Guild."

"But to kill someone?"

"She's not important," Adrienne said, not seeing the look on Mal's face. "She's not even a Companion any more."

"Mal," Inara breathed, seeing his fingers tighten on the butt of his gun.

Mal made his hand relax. "You're right," he said. "They ain't worth it." He looked up. "So. That's the deal. You leave Inara alone, we don't let everyone know what you did. Simple."

The man on the dais nodded. "Adrienne, I think we have to –"

"No. How do we know he won't release it anyway?"

"You have my word," Mal said.

"And you expect me to accept that?"

"I don't care. My word as a Browncoat. As a man. Long as 'Nara remains untouched, not harmed in any way, then that document stays locked up. If she gets hurt, or just vanishes, I'm holding you responsible. Then you'd better say goodbye to all of this." He indicated the lush furnishings. "And that holds true for me and mine. Better just hope nothing happens to us."

Adrienne glared at him, the look on her face proof positive that she'd just love to see him burst into flames and die a horrible death right in front of her.

The man tugged at her sleeve. "We have no choice, Adrienne."

She continued to stare at Mal, but something inside her had given up. "Very well," she ground out. "We will make sure nothing happens to Serra."

"Or?" Mal prompted.

"Or your crew," Dhow agreed grudgingly. "At least from our side. Somehow, I don't think you make friends easily."

Mal smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "See? That was easy." He looked back at his crew. "Time we were off this mudball."

Inara put her hand on his arm. "Not yet." She stepped forward, looking at the Triumvirate with all of her beauty and poise intact. "I always thought the Guild was my home. That, no matter what, the Guild were moral and honourable. I even blamed myself for what happened with my child, that _I _broke the rules put in place for my safety, my well-being. Now I see you for what you are. Not the Guild as a whole, but those in charge."

She paused for a moment, sadness suffusing her face. "A good man died because of you. Because of the machinations of just a few who should have known better. And you're going to get away with that. Part of me wants to stand by and watch what another man wants to do to you, to see this room run with your blood. But I will do what's right, instead, no matter how much it hurts me."

She fixed Dhow with a glare. "I used to look up to you. I don't any more. But I do have to thank you. You've taught me a valuable lesson today, the last I'll ever learn from the Guild." She lifted her head, proud and magnificent. "No matter what I am, what I become, I'm better than you."

She turned on her heel and walked out.

Mal watched her leave, admiring the steel inside that amazing frame, then turned back to the Triumvirate, sitting in stunned silence. "You know, talking of money …"

"So you _are_ going to blackmail us?" Dhow asked.

"No. Just making a suggestion. It might be worth your while to consider releasing Inara's accounts. I'm of the understanding that you kept all her money when she came to her senses and resigned from the Guild."

"It's Guild rules."

"Yeah, well, you see I ain't ever really been that fond of rules. So I suggest you think about it somewhat." He went to the doorway but paused. "Don't go thinking this was my choice," he said. "Someone else with more of a sense persuaded me. Personally I'd have been glad to see you grubbing in the dirt for pennies." He strode out, the others at his back, leaving the Triumvirate staring after him.

--

Simon walked into the offices of Belgrade and Chou, situated in one of the smartest parts of Ariel City, dressed in his finest suit, his hair freshly trimmed and shining, his most supercilious face in place.

"Mr … Smith?" The man behind the desk looked up in surprise.

"Do I have the pleasure of addressing Mr Belgrade or Mr Chou?" Simon asked.

"Neither. Both have in fact been dead for some thirty years. But I am the senior partner, Leonard Myers." He extended a hand but Simon didn't take it. Instead he looked at it as if it were something entirely foreign to him. Myers awkwardly dropped it. "And what can I do for you, Mr Smith? And please, sit."

Simon lowered himself into the chair opposite. "Mr Myers, my family is … influential. Well known." Simon saw the flash of understanding cross the other man's features, and the level of unctuousness increased. "And it is a matter of some delicacy on which I come today. On behalf of a friend."

The accent he put on the word _friend_ left Myers in no doubt as to the nature of that friendship. "And what it is we can do for you?"

"There is a certain document I would wish to place into your safekeeping. It is not to be opened, or passed to any person other than myself or to one of those names I shall give you."

"I see." Myers sat back. "Of course we can accommodate this. For a modest fee."

"There is one other stipulation. The person who owns this document … if any harm befalls her, or she should go missing, the other names are to be notified. In the event that is not possible, the document is to be released to the public via every available channel."

Myers raised his eyebrows. "May I ask the nature of this document?"

"You may not." Simon crossed one immaculately clad leg over the other. "It is highly sensitive in nature, and in the wrong hands it could cause … problems."

"And in the right ones?"

Simon smiled chillingly. "Problems of a different sort."

"Of course." Myers became business-like, even as one part of his mind was wondering at the ramifications of what this superior young man had said. It was almost worth finding out what might happen. "Do you have the document with you?"

"I do." Simon reached into his jacket and withdrew a sealed envelope, a small device the size of a coin attached to the flap. "As you can see, it is tamper-proof. It isn't that I don't trust you, but … you are a lawyer."

Myers laughed. "Indeed." He stood up. "Follow me."

He led the way down to one of the basement levels, stopping outside a vault where his fingerprints, retina and DNA scan allowed access to a room full of safety deposit boxes. "It's amazing how many people don't trust Alliance banks," he said quietly, as if he were in a library or a church.

"Indeed."

"Do you have a preference for the position?" He indicated the numbers available, obvious by their green lights.

"Perhaps something with a seaview?"

Myers smiled. "Of course."

Simon pointed to one of the boxes. "That one."

Myers nodded and passed his hand over the scanner attached to number 9503. The door opened and a shallow drawer slid out. "Please."

Simon placed the envelope in the drawer and watched it disappear back into the wall. The door closed and the light went red.

Back in the office Myers brought up the delicate subject of the fee, naming an exorbitant amount. "Annually, of course."

"Of course." Simon put his hand into his pocket and came out with a wedge of cash. "I hope you don't mind. I would rather this didn't go through any … official channels."

Myers eyes twinkled. "We're happy to deal in currency." He almost snatched it out of the young man's fingers.

"An identical amount will be delivered to you on each anniversary of this date."

"Splendid." He slipped the money into his desk drawer.

"If the sum is late, please wait one calendar month, and then release the document."

"As you direct. And the names?"

Simon held out a single sheet of paper. "The top name is the lady involved. As for the others … they will know the number, and my name. Nothing else."

Myers took it, perused it just once before it followed the money into the drawer. "That is, of course, acceptable."

Simon smiled slightly and stood up. "It was a pleasure doing business with you."

"Any time," Myers said, showing most of his teeth. "And please, recommend us to your friends." He went to put out his hand but stopped.

"I shall."

Myers watched the young man leave, intrigued as to his true identity. There was a certain resemblance to one of the Parliament members … perhaps a nephew. Or even a son. Myers preened himself and went back to count the cash.

--

Freya opened the door. "Thank you, Dr Yi," she said, about to step out but stopping short in surprise. "Mal?"

Her husband was standing in front of her. "Hey."

"I didn't think you were … did you come to meet me?"

"I had a couple of things to do. Some stuff I had to pick up."

"Oh." She smiled, a little shakily.

"Bad?"

She shrugged. "Not good. But it's helping." She pulled herself together. "Dr Yi thinks after the other three sessions we should … _I_ should be on the way to … Mal, what is it?"

He was smiling at her. "Frey, give me your hand," he said softly.

"What?"

"As Simon keeps saying to little Bethie, not what, but pardon." He smile widened a little. "Give me your hand."

She held out her right, but he shook his head. "The other one."

"The other …"

"Frey, you only got but the two."

Freya held out her left hand, palm upward. "What's this about?"

Mal took hold, turning it over. "See, I figured this looked a little bare," he said conversationally, reaching into his pocket. "So I decided I oughtta do something about it." As Freya stared, he slipped the two rings back onto her finger before lifting her hand to his lips. "Can't recall how many times I've put these on now," he whispered, kissing them gently. He looked up into her eyes. "I got them fixed. And don't ever take them off again."

"I … it wasn't exactly my choice," Freya pointed out feebly, her heart thudding in her chest. "Mal, I love you."

"Good." The schoolboy grin was back. "Here." He held something else out to her.

"Oh, Mal." Sitting on the palm of his hand was another gold ring, this one bigger. "Are you sure about this?" She lifted it up, turning it so it caught the light.

"You said once you liked the idea of me wearing a wedding band. Well, so do I." He nodded. "You gonna do the honours?"

Freya licked suddenly dry lips, then slid the ring onto the third finger of his left hand. "You do realise I'm not going to let you get away from me now."

"Wouldn't want it any other way." He pulled her into his arms, her body moulding to his, offering up a silent prayer that it would always be like this. "And no more talk of you leaving me for my own good. My good is you being next to me, for the rest of my life."

She breathed him in deep, the warm brown smell of leather, the tang of black powder, the soap he used, the … the Mal-ness of him. "I promise," she murmured, his essence filling her almost as much as when they were making love, and she felt warm, complete.

"Good." He let go and stood back, leaving her a little bereft. "Got me something else to do, too."

"Are you ready, Captain Reynolds?" Dr Yi asked from the doorway.

"What?" Freya managed to say.

"Just coming," he said, not taking his eyes from his wife's astonished face. "Wait for me?" he asked.

"Always." She laughed, relief sliding through her.

Mal grinned and turned towards the diminutive doctor. "Got me a whole lot to talk about," he said, gesturing with his hand for her to go first, then felt his heart thud happily as he saw the light glinting off the ring on his finger. "A whole lot."


	18. Epilogue

"You ain't the only one's ever been in love and lost 'em, moonbrain," Jayne said, watching River finally eat some decent food.

"Tell me." She put her fork down. "Or I'll –"

"You keep eating," he said. "Or _I_ won't say a damn word more."

"Okay," she said softly, picking up the fork and spearing a piece of protein. "Please?"

Jayne sat back. "We met in a bar. Hell, actually under a table. Wasn't my fight but I was getting mighty pissed at the amount of time it was taking to end it. Might not be getting paid, but I was considering making a personal appearance. Then she slid down next to me."

…

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, grinning at him.

"Find your own cover."

"Now is that any way to talk to a lady?"

"You ain't no lady."

"And that's downright insulting. How would you know that anyway?"

Jayne ducked as a bullet took a bite out of the table top. "'Cause if'n you were you wouldn't be seen dead in here."

She laughed, a deep throaty sound that made his blood tingle. "Got me there, cowboy."

"Ain't a cowboy."

"You're wearing a gun."

"Don't mean I'm one of those _wo nang fei_'s."

"You don't have too high an opinion of them."

"Nope."

Someone screamed but the gunplay went on.

"You know, I come in here for a quiet drink and this is what happens." She sighed theatrically.

"They fighting over you?" Jayne asked, surprised.

"Maybe."

Suddenly he grinned. "Come on. Let's get outta here 'fore we get our asses shot off." He nodded towards the back door.

Outside, in the daylight, he got his first good look at her. Almost as tall as him, broad shouldered and hipped, small waist, big tits that showed a little above the shirt she wore tucked into workmanlike pants. Her hair was long, tied back out of the way, and light brown, almost blonde. Her eyes, though, were dark, almost the colour of the night sky.

"Like what you see, cowboy?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

He smiled slowly. "Kinda." The smile grew wider. "Course, I'd have to take a look at the full deal to really make up my mind."

"How old're you?" she asked, looking him up and down too, and apparently finding him not too repulsive.

"Why?"

"I ain't so much into cradle snatching."

"Thirty," he lied glibly.

"Try again."

Aw, hell. "Twenty six."

"Closer." She sighed. "Old enough to be your momma."

"My momma never looked like you," he said, feeling the first drops of rain fall onto his flesh, surprised it didn't sizzle with the heat he was generating.

"_Cao_."

--

She wasn't fat. There was softness, but muscles lay under it, and as she gripped Jayne between her thighs, the storm drumming against the window, he howled his release into the sky, like a wolf at the moon.

After, as he lay on her breasts, making patterns in the sweat on her skin, he asked her name.

"Charity." She winced. "Don't seem to fit right, does it?"

"I kinda like it," Jayne admitted, running his calloused thumb around her nipple.

"Given to me by parents who had no idea how I'd turn out." She watched him play with her, hefting the weight of her in his hand.

"Ain't as bad as mine."

"Oh?"

"Jayne. Jayne Cobb."

"With or without a 'y'?"

"With." He waited for her comments, maybe even her laughter.

"How come?" was all she asked.

"Family name, I guess. Ma told me I'd an uncle by that name once, only I never got to meet him." There was something approaching regret in his voice.

"He died?"

"Well, I left home before I found out for sure, but I think so. Gunfight. They never really spoke about him."

"Guess that's where you get your talent from," Charity said, her eyes closing as his free hand ran in circles down her belly. "Damn, but you got endurance."

He grinned. "Pride myself on my recovery rate."

"That's what comes of being young." She took a sharp breath as his questing fingers found the bundle of nerves between her thighs and tweaked it. "You'll have me walking bow-legged."

"That's the plan."

Charity laughed and pulled his face up so she could kiss him.

…

"You kissed her?" River asked, enthralled. "On the mouth?"

"You keep eating. And yeah. On the mouth. I didn't know any better then."

…

Jayne pulled on his boots and glanced at Charity laying on the bed, the sheets still damp from their last bout. "I gotta go."

"Business?"

"Boss don't like me being too late. 'Sides, he wants to be off this rock 'fore nightfall."

She sat up and swung her legs off the bed. "You think you might be by again?"

"Probably. Eventually." He wasn't looking at her, couldn't, not without his body reacting again.

"Yeah." She smiled sadly and stood up. "See you around, Jayne." She walked into the bathroom and closed the door. The squeal of rusty hinges indicated he'd gone.

Half an hour later she walked back into the bedroom, the towel wrapped around her from the shower, and stopped.

"I thought you'd left."

He was sitting on the bed, a large bag at his feet, dampness radiating off him.

"Seems I came over all crazy," he said. "Told my boss I was retiring."

"Retiring."

"Yeah. Collected my guns, kicked the ship's cat once more and left."

"You violent towards animals?"

"Damn thing kept sleeping amongst my ammunition. Got a death wish or something."

She put her hands on her hips. "So what're your plans now?"

He shrugged. "Well, long term not sure I got any. Right now, though …" He stood up, facing her, hooking his finger into the towel. "Kinda figured I might like to find out where you got that scar on your back from."

"Cat house fight on Nestor, almost before you were born."

Jayne tutted. "Now, see, that's taken all the fun out of it."

"Oh, you wanted fun?" She moved half a step closer.

"Maybe."

"Why're you here, Jayne?" Charity asked, her breath quickening.

"Not sure. Just got the feeling I should be." He tugged and the towel came loose, catching only on her hands.

She let it drop. "I just got clean."

"'N' I got soaked to the skin getting my gear. So after we can wash up."

"After what?"

For answer he leaned in and kissed her, feeling the smoothness of her skin under his hands, pulling her towards him. She ran her fingers through his hair, her tongue battling with his as she felt his hardness against her.

…

"Love at first sight?" River asked, pushing her empty plate away.

"Don't believe in that," Jayne said.

"Yes you do." She stared at him, her head on one side. "Well? What happened next?"

"Girl, you can see it in my brain. You don't have to have me tell you."

"I like you telling me. And I haven't looked. Please."

"Well, our deal was I talk while you eat. And you ain't got no food left."

River quickly put two more spoonfuls of stew onto her plate and picked up her fork. "Well?"

Jayne's lips twitched.

…

"You know," Charity said, her head on Jayne's belly, looking into the ceiling and twisting the hair on his chest between her fingers, "if I didn't know better I'd think you were just after an easy ride."

"Oh, you ride easy," Jayne muttered, his body finally exhausted.

"I mean, I got that sweet little boat out in the dock, and no-one to share it with me."

Jayne looked down at her. "You got a ship?"

"Mmn. Not big, but enough for one. Maybe two. And a list of people who want jobs done."

"What kinda jobs?"

"All sorts. Cargo. Maybe a little thieving here and there. Some smuggling." She glanced up. "You be okay with that?"

"Legal or not, long as I get paid."

"That it? All you want to be is a cowboy all your life?"

He gently tugged her hair, tangled across his hips. "Told you, I ain't a cowboy."

"No, guess not."

"Charity, you don't know anything about me," Jayne said slowly. "And you're offering … what? To make me a partner?"

"No. Not yet. Not for a while." She sighed. "But I'm lonely. Out there in the black, no-one to talk to for weeks on end. Could send a body crazy. Just as like to open the airlock just to make a change."

"Then what?"

"I guess I want to try it for a while. We fit. Damn good, despite you being too young for me 'n' all."

"Ain't that young. And you ain't old. Not with what you just did to me."

Charity smiled. "So, you wanna?"

"Can I think about it?"

"Sure. Just don't take too –"

"Okay."

"What?"

"Okay. Let's try it for a while. We don't like it, no hard feelings."

She lifted herself onto her elbow and grinned at him. "Exactly. Although when it comes to hard …" She put her hand around his _ji ba_, and he groaned. "Ain't the only one's gonna be walking outta here bow-legged," she promised, turning so she could lower her mouth onto him.

"Gorramit, Charity, you wanna kill me?"

"What a way to go," she said, her voice muffled.

…

"Five years." Jayne wasn't looking at the girl opposite him, but into the past. "Five years we were together. Five years of jobs and sex and …"

"Love."

"No." He closed his eyes. "Yeah. Love. She made me feel like I was the only one in the 'verse."

River nodded, food forgotten. "I know."

"But we argued sometimes. Good job we were out in space, 'cause if we'd been anywhere near a planet they'd'a heard us down on the ground. Big fights, claws out, scratchin', yellin', swearing we were gonna kill each other …" His face softened. "Then we'd fall into bed and not come out for a week."

"What happened?"

The softness hardened again. "The war. Damn war erupted all around us."

"I didn't think you fought in the war."

"Never did. But it was an opportunity we couldn't pass up. Started running stuff for the Independents, guns mostly. And it was fun, too, getting through the Alliance lines. Even did a little work for them once in a while, just to sociable." He stopped talking.

"How did it happen?" River prompted, her fingers walking across the table to his hand, touching just the tips of his own.

"Got boarded. Some scumbucket crew heard we were carrying and decided we were easy pickings." He shook his head. "Started shooting as soon as they got on, and it took me a few minutes to get to my guns, take 'em out. Only by then it was too late."

…

"Charity?" Jayne called, pushing the body away from him, ignoring the blood on his shirt. "Charity!"

"Jayne …"

He ran into the small cargo hold, seeing her boots behind one of the crates. Dropping his gun he went down on his knees next to her.

"_Lao-tyen, boo_," he moaned, trying to stem the flow of blood from the wound in her chest.

"Jayne?" She forced her eyes open.

"I'm here, darlin'," he said, moving the hair from across her face. "Get you patched up quick. Ain't more'n' a flesh wound."

She smiled, then groaned as his fingers pressed harder. "Flesh wound. Sure," she ground out.

"You lie still, darlin'. Ain't no call to be fussin' so."

"Since when did you tell me what to do?" Charity asked, finding it harder to breathe.

"Since you decided to take pity on me and force me into your bed."

She tried to laugh but it hurt too much. "Thought it was the other way around."

"Lie still," he begged. "Let me get –"

"No!" She grabbed his hand, her grip surprisingly strong. "Don't go. Nowhere to go to, anyway."

"I need to get the emergency kit –"

"_No_ need." She coughed, and a thin trickle of blood appeared at her lips.

He wiped it away, but it kept coming.

"Charity, please."

"Ship's yours now, Jayne." Her vision was clouding. "Treat her well."

"Don't talk that way." There was too much blood. Too much, and it was soaking into his pants. "Get you fixed up and you can –"

"Can't do nothing now, Jayne." She spasmed, her body contorting with pain.

"Charity …" He held onto her, trying to stop it for her, and only feeling it shuddering through him.

The spasm finally stopped and she lay still, panting, trying to take just a few more breaths. "Say my … name again, Jayne. I like it when … when you say it."

"Charity."

She smiled. "That's nice. I …"

He looked down into her face, but she wasn't there. Reaching up he closed her eyes gently with his calloused fingers, then took one last kiss, tasting her blood on his tongue.

…

"What did you do?"

Jayne shrugged. "Finished the job. Sold the guns. And the boat. Got drunk for a month then signed on with someone else."

"Didn't you want to keep it? The ship?"

"Too many memories." He looked at her. "What'd I want a boat for? Ain't no mechanic. Charity'd taken care of all that. Probably have run her straight into a moon if I'd tried."

"I'm sorry."

"Weren't your fault."

"And Jethro isn't yours."

"Don't think that, River."

"Your heart says differently."

"Ain't got no heart no more," Jayne said. "Died that day. It weren't much anyway, just a little thing, but it got eaten up by the pain."

River nodded and her fingers crept onto his. "We know. We understand."

"Yeah. Guess we do," Jayne agreed, holding tight to her.


End file.
